


Fodlan's Fantastic Baking Show

by Yevie



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Great British Bake Off Fusion, Felix is emotionally constipated but grows, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Minor Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Dedue Molinaro, Past Dimilix, Trans Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:07:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21804907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yevie/pseuds/Yevie
Summary: It was all Annette's fault. Felix would be home, with his cat, watching some dumb movie to help clear his head were it not for Annette. But instead, he was somehow participating in Fodlan's Fantastic Baking Show, which he absolutely did not spend his winter holidays marathoning.Alternatively, Felix becomes a contestant on Fodlan's Fantastic Baking Show, makes friends, catches feelings and learns a little bit about how to be a better human along the way.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 85
Kudos: 339
Collections: Sylvix Squad Super Stories





	1. Week 1 - Cake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cherryconke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryconke/gifts).



> This was written for the lovely [Cherry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryconke/pseuds/cherryconke) for the Sylvix Discord's Secret Santa exchange! 
> 
> We had a bunch of lovely betas, but an extra special shout out to [Kina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/azuriteaura) for helping me beta this entire thing and letting me flail arms at her when I despairing.
> 
> This actual fic really wasn't meant to be too long, but it ballooned out of proportion into a multi-chapter monstrosity. So, now that I'm posting it here, I'm not posting it all at once, if only to give myself room to fix any mistakes. My update schedule right now is twice a week, on Wednesdays and Sundays. 
> 
> Lastly, this version of the baking show only has 10 contestants/8 weeks.

It was all Annette's fault. Felix would be home, with his cat, watching some dumb movie to help clear his head were it not for Annette. But instead, he was somehow participating in Fodlan's Fantastic Baking Show, which he absolutely did not spend his winter holidays marathoning. How she had managed to talk him into entering was as baffling as him actually earning a place. Yet, here he was with flour in his hair, sleeves rolled up and only half an hour left to finish decorating a batch of cupcakes. This wouldn't have been a problem if his ganache hadn't decided to fuck with him. What exactly had gone wrong, Felix couldn't say. It had just split.

But, the ganache wasn't his only problem. No, Felix could fix that. What he couldn't fix was the man in front of him. Sylvain was his name and he, for some unholy reason, was flirting with his cupcakes as he decorated them. "Oh baby, you're a sexy one, aren't you?" Sylvain said to the cupcake as he set it on the tray. Perhaps Felix shouldn't have been paying attention to that - it wasn't any of his business. And maybe he wouldn't have been paying attention if Sylvain hadn't also earlier done goofy, distracting dances while waiting for his cupcakes to come out of the oven and if Sylvain hadn't at the same time done bad karaoke into his spoon. Every time Felix looked up, the ridiculous man was doing some new stunt. Yet, somehow, Sylvain was near done while everyone else had just started decorating.

Looking down to see that no matter how hard he was stirring his ganache, it just was not coming together, Felix banged his whisk against the bowl. A loud ringing echoed. Fuck. As Felix cringed, Sylvain turned back towards him.

"You okay?" asked the irritating man.

Felix looked off to the side. "Fine."

"Your cupcakes smell great, by the way," Sylvain said, smiling. Then, he turned back around to serenading baked goods.

Taking one breath, then another, Felix reminded himself that he was, in fact, very good under pressure. He just needed to fix the ganache, and that wasn't so hard. If he just added a bit of warm milk it would come back together. He had this.

When Catherine and Shamir called time, Felix had just finished putting the last of his candied orange peels onto the ganache. And when the judges came by, they seemed more or less pleased with Felix. The sharpness of the orange and bitterness of the chocolate had paired perfectly. The bit of spice that Felix had put in was a unique touch to a classic combination. As the judges departed, Sylvain gave Felix a wink and a thumbs up. Felix forced himself not to scowl. It wasn't as if he wanted to antagonize anyone, even annoying competitors.

After Felix, the judges, Hanneman and Manuela, stopped by Sylvain's station. Instantly, Manuela's eyes widened. "Oh, these are just darling," she cooed, picking up a cupcake. The buttercream on top was pale-pink and rounded off with a divot in the middle and a dusting of red on one side. There was a mint leaf perched atop. Peach cupcakes decorated like peaches. Even Felix could admit that it was a little bit charming. Annette would probably love it.

"Thank you." Sylvain grinned. "I thought a peach for a peach would be appropriate."

Manuela lightly swatted Sylvain on the shoulder, "You're certainly charming, but that won't win you any points." The cupcakes themselves, however, seemed to. Even Hannemen found little to complain about. Catherine took an extra with her as the judges moved onto the next station.

But, after the judges left, Felix couldn't help but notice that Sylvain's sickeningly charming grin shifted into something akin to awe. He picked up one of his cupcakes and took a bite. "Guess I didn't do too bad," Sylvain said so quietly that Felix was pretty sure it wasn't meant for anyone to hear.

* * *

As the tent was cleared for the next challenge, Felix and his fellow contestants waited outdoors. Felix stood alone, hands stuffed in the pockets of his dark wash jeans. He was never great when it came to making small talk with new people. It wasn't that he was shy, it was simply that he rarely had much to say, and what he did say often came out as terse and rude. Here there was no Annette or Ingrid or even Dimitri to help soften the blows and make Felix seem human.

From behind Felix, an airy voice said, "Hello." He turned around. There stood a woman a little older than himself, with short blonde hair and a long, floral skirt. Mercedes, if Felix remembered correctly.

"Hi," he said, forcing himself to make eye contact briefly.

"It's a lovely day, isn't it?" She smiled, sweet and warm.

The sky was grey, there was a low haze of not-quite rain, not-quite fog in the air, and worst of all, it was cold. Felix raised an eyebrow.

She giggled. "All right, that perhaps was a bit of an exaggeration. I'm not always the best at making conversation."

Felix shrugged. "Neither am I."

She nodded. "Yes, I had the feeling. But you shouldn't be shy. Come talk to a few of us?" She gestured to a tall, burly man with white hair and a smaller, grey-haired, freckled man. "We're all a little shy, but it might be nice to make friends, no?"

Felix could all but hear Annette and Ingrid insisting that yes, he should definitely attempt to make friends and not be an ass. "Just don't expect me to have much to say," Felix told Mercedes.

It turned out the two men, Dedue and Ashe, weren't so bad. Dedue was no more a talker than Felix, which Felix appreciated. Ashe, a literature teacher and apparent chatterbox, carried most of the conversation. When Ashe found out that Dedue was a botanist, he managed to tug a discussion of flower meanings out of Dedue. Mercedes hummed along and Felix didn't actually do much more than nod in acknowledgement until Mercedes started talking about her nursing job. She told some story about a guy who'd gotten a jar of peanut butter stuck where peanut butter was definitely not meant to go.

Felix cackled. "Shit, that's a good one. The best story I have is the time some guy accidentally shot himself. He'd been cleaning his gun, butt naked, and his neighbor came in."

Felix's three new friends blinked at him, before Mercedes started giggling uncontrollably, then Ashe joined in and even Dedue managed a snicker. "What did you say you do again?" Mercedes asked, when she finally stopped giggling.

Felix paused, then shrugged a shoulder. "Paramedic." After that it was trading stories with Mercedes.

Eventually, Felix was called for his interview. Surprising even himself, Felix was reluctant to leave. Granted, he also really didn't want to do the interview. He had a hard enough time talking about himself to his therapist, and they were patient when he insisted on talking about anything other than himself.

As Felix made his way across the field to his torture session, he passed by Sylvain. Sylvain turned to Felix and said, "You know, you have a cute smile. You should do it more often."

"What?" Felix stopped. He wasn't smiling now.

"Noticed you smiling earlier." Sylvain shrugged.

Felix felt his face heat and a distinct urge to sock Sylvain in the jaw. It was lucky for Sylvain that Felix had zero interest in being the first person to be kicked off of Foldan's Fantastic Baking Show for starting a fist fight. "Keep your eyes to yourself," Felix said and continued his march of doom.

* * *

The Technical was Battenberg Cake - a pink and yellow checkered construction coated with jam and then topped with marzipan. The Technical was the part of this competition that Felix looked forward to the most. He didn't bake because he enjoyed baked goods - most of the time, he gave them to Annette or Ingrid - he baked because there was something amazing about getting a technique just right, about the precision and balance of it all. And here? Here was the extra challenge of not having a detailed recipe to tell him exactly how to do that. It was the perfect test. Perhaps Felix was something of a masochist, but he always loved a challenge that he stood to fail.

The trickiest part of this particular challenge was time management. There were a lot of moving pieces and little time to start over if one messed up. Which made it all the weirder when Felix looked up from stirring his jam to see Sylvain tossing a wooden spoon into the air and then catching it in his mouth. As Felix watched, Sylvain turned around and smiled brightly at him. "Like the show?" He asked.

For a moment, Felix felt the itch of irritation, and something else entirely that he chose not to label, but then he decided that he really had better things to do than obsess over Sylvain and Sylvain's too perfect smile. "You should watch your jam."

* * *

When the day ended and they all made their way out of the tent, Felix found himself gravitating back to Mercedes, Ashe and Dedue. The sun was beginning to set and none of them lived close enough to Garreg Mach to warrant going home. Like most of the other competitors, they were staying in the hotel the show had provided for them.

"You guys want to play a board game? I brought some along in case, well you know." Ashe made a vague gesture at the hotel lobby.

"Board games!" Mercedes clapped her hands together. "Which ones do you have?" Her eyes lit up with a mischief Felix hadn't imagined was possible on her face.

"I uh, got a few," Ashe said, face flushing. "Got Exploding Kittens, Catan, Resistance," and he went on, listing more board games than Felix knew existed. Granted, the only board game Felix had ever been talked into playing had been Pandemic - Ingrid's idea.

"Did someone mention Resistance?" Sylvain popped up, seemingly out of nowhere.

It turned out that a number of the contestants were board game affectionados, and a number of others were just bored. It ended up being seven of them - Felix, Sylvain, Ashe, Dedue, Mercedes, Hilda and Dorothea - all gathered around a hotel lobby to play Resistance. The game was about spies, double-agents, and keeping a good poker face should you be assigned one of the later. Felix, unsurprisingly, proved terrible at the entire affair. The competitive part of him twitched, until Sylvain vanished for a round and came back with a twelve pack of beer and some boxed wine.

After that, Hilda pulled out a pack of Cards Against Humanity. A couple drinks in and Felix couldn't tell if some of the jokes were funny or not, all he knew was that he was laughing more than expected, but then he'd always been a lightweight. He sat sprawled out on the couch, arm loosely draped around the back of it. Sylvain was sitting next to him, sinking deep into the cushions, fluffy red hair brushing against Felix's fingers. It was a testament to how relaxed Felix felt that he didn't pull away, but rather idly fingered the curls.

A few rounds in, and Felix ended up the judge of _I learned the hard way that you can't cheer up a grieving friend with ___._ Once everyone had set their cards down, Felix scanned the offerings. One by one, he flipped cards he didn't like back over, until he finally settled on _Giving a tumor a cutesy name._ Holding it up, Felix said, "So, who's is this?"

Shifting, Sylvain plucked the card from Felix's hand. "That would be me." He grinned.

"Nice one," Felix said, forgetting that he thought Sylvain was an irritating asshole.

Sylvain beamed. "And here I was starting to worry you didn't like me."

"I didn't say I liked you," Felix replied, but he was too relaxed for his usual venom. The words came out with a playful, teasing edge.

Sylvain laughed. "Well then, guess I'll have to work a little harder." He settled back down onto the couch and offered Felix another beer.

"You trying to sabotage the competition?"

Sylvain placed a hand to his chest. "You wound me. I'm just trying to be a gentleman."

Felix looked at the card on the table _I'm sorry, Professor, but I couldn't complete my homework because of,_ and then browsed over his own deck. It was Ashe's turn to judge, and from what little Felix knew about the man, he figured Ashe would prefer a more innocent joke. He kind of reminded Felix of Annette in that regard. Felix set down _Poor life choices_ before responding to Sylvain, "Don't know, you were pretty good at sabotage earlier tonight."

"Are you accusing me of being a double agent?" Sylvain laughed. "Well, I suppose I'm sexy enough. I could be here to discover the world's most coveted baking secrets."

Felix chuckled. "Then you're doing a good job throwing people off your tail."

"Am I?"

"Acting like a fool, flirting with pastries, whatever that dance was..." Felix trailed off when he noticed a flash of hurt pass over Sylvain's face. Felix hadn't actually meant to be cruel then, but that was always his problem wasn't it? He never really meant to cause pain, he just sort of did.

But before Felix could apologize, Sylvain put a smile back on. "I just figured while I'm still here, I might as well enjoy myself." He took a gulp of the beer he'd offered Felix earlier. "Not sure I'm going to be here long."

Felix's brows shot up. Was this some attempt at false modesty or had Sylvain not realized he was in the lead? He was about to ask, but then Ashe selected _The inevitable heat death of the universe_ and Mercedes yelped, "Oh, that's mine!"

* * *

Thanks to Mercedes insisting that everyone stay properly hydrated throughout the night, Felix woke up only minimally groggy and not at all hung over. Which was good, because today, they were making wedding cakes.

Felix made an elaborate, espresso-almond cake. If he'd thought he'd been in the zone before, today was something completely different. Everything fell together, and even when it did not, Felix knew exactly how to correct. And when he looked up and saw Sylvain doing his ridiculous routine, Felix felt almost unbothered. Today was just fun. It was nice. Felix couldn't remember the last time he'd simply enjoyed himself.

That was why Annette had insisted he enter. She was his partner at work, so as reluctant as Felix was to admit it, she knew him better than anyone else. And she'd been saying that Felix was starting to get so wrapped up in work that it was frightening her. Felix had wanted to argue, but other than work, the gym and hanging out with his cat, Felix hadn't been doing much lately. It'd been hard since his father passed.

But Felix didn't want to think about that now. He put a topper on his cake. It had been a cute pair of cats, both of whom had bowties on. The cake itself was decorated with cocoa powder paw-prints. A cat wedding, because anything more romantic made would have made Felix feel a tad ill. It would have reminded him of his failed engagement to Dimitri and the years they spent estranged afterwards. They'd really only gotten back on speaking terms after Felix's father's funeral, which Felix also didn't care to think about.

Sylvain's cake had a pair of sugar sculpted cocktail cups on it and was apparently flavored like a Pina Colada. Somehow, Felix was unsurprised.

Both their cakes got decent reviews from the judges, in fact, so did all of last night's gaming party except for Hilda who hadn't quite managed to finish her cake on time. It startled Felix that he felt a twinge of sadness for her when the judges gave her disappointed reviews. He even gave her shoulder an awkward squeeze after Mercedes and Dorothea had hugged the tears out of her.

The results of the day were unsurprising. Sylvain won Star Baker and Hilda went home. Or they shouldn't have surprised anyone, but Sylvain looked fairly dazed about winning. Though he quickly seemed to get over his daze to comfort Hilda and invite her, and whoever else was interested, out for some good-bye drinks. Felix found he wanted to say yes, would have said yes if he didn't have work tomorrow and if Annette and Ingrid hadn't already agreed to drive up and get him for their own celebration.

After letting Hilda give him a good-bye hug, Felix waved good-bye and let himself linger just a little before forcing himself to go. He was actually looking forward to seeing this group next week.

* * *

"Okay, so, are you contractually obligated from telling us who got Star Baker," Annette asked, leaning forward in her diner seat.

Ingrid grabbed Annette by the coat and pulled her back into the seat. "Would you be able to keep it secret if he did tell you?"

"Of course!" Annette said, unbelievably. Felix and Ingrid exchanged looks. "Come on, I do know how to keep my mouth shut when I have to." Annette pouted.

"The name wouldn't mean anything to you," Felix pointed out. The episodes wouldn't even start airing for another few months.

"Which is exactly why you can tell me and also why you should tell me about them - and about everyone else."

"Annette," Ingrid said.

"I just want to make sure Felix is making friends."

Ingrid winced and Felix wasn't sure who to be more offended by. Ingrid for assuming that he was unable to make friends or Annette for attempting to coddle him. He gave them both a flat look. "I'm not there to make friends, I'm there to win," he quoted every cutthroat gameshow competitor as tonelessly as he could manage.

It took a moment and then both of Felix's best friends were laughing uncontrollably.

When they stopped, Felix finally said, "His name's Sylvain and he's a pain in the ass." He didn't mention that Sylvain also had a ridiculously nice ass because it didn't seem relevant.


	2. Week 2 - Biscuits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He didn't notice when Sylvain sank into the couch next to him. It was only at some point that Felix blinked up and saw the man seated there, leaning back and slowly sipping on a glass of red wine. His teal button up shirt had the top two buttons unbuttoned, his hair was artfully tousled and despite the long day, his slacks were still crisply creased as he had one long leg folded over the other._
> 
> _In this moment, Felix felt too tired to deny the fact that Sylvain was absolutely gorgeous. Had it been a year ago, had there been no competition between them, Felix might have gone up to Sylvain to try his luck. For a multitude of reasons, Felix wasn't much of a flirt. But when he felt bold, he knew the sort of sharp words that could convince a person to fall into bed with him. Too bad the only person he'd ever convinced to stay for long had been Dimitri._

Felix was well versed in the way the dead lingered long after their passing. There was always someone learning for the first time that their old acquaintance was no longer on this earth, there were odd phone calls from gyms that didn't know the person holding the membership was no longer running anywhere, there were old t-shirts found behind couches and there were just the memories that sometimes overtook no matter how hard one fought not to linger in the past. Felix was well versed in death not only because his career was built on rescuing people from its clutches but because among those Felix had not been able to save had been his mother, his brother and most recently his father.

And now, not long after he had been interviewed about a tray of biscuits, Felix hung up from an all too familiar phone call - _I'm sorry, he's died. Yes. Yes, I'm okay. Yes, it's fine. I'm sorry you hadn't heard. I'm sorry for your loss._ It had been some old colleague of Felix's father, one who Felix had met once, over five years ago and who had just heard about the passing and now in shock sought out comfort, uncaring that maybe Felix had wanted to leave the thought of it all six feet under.

There was another hour before the Technical challenge and Felix wasn't certain he was ready to try at being human. Instead he wandered off to one of the quieter areas near the tent - a set of benches surrounding a fountain. There were small, cheerful green plants and blooming flowers. It looked like something out of a children's book, a little unreal, a little too quaint for Felix's mood. And yet, it was quiet, so Felix took it.

He sat down on a bench and dropped his head into his hands. It was the weight of it that still shocked him. The too heavy ache in his chest, the way it seemed to pull him down and drag tears from his eyes. There hadn't even been a proper good-bye, just a phone call telling Felix that his father had died saving a kid from being hit by a car. The last thing Felix had said to his father had been one of their mundane exchanges, filled with too bitter words and a lack of understanding. It was hard not to regret it, even if Felix wasn't sure he knew what he would have wanted to say instead.

A rustle of leaves made Felix raise his head. He blinked when Sylvain entered his frame of vision. There was a mirrored look of surprise at seeing Felix there on Sylvain's face. But the surprise didn't last long - there weren't many other places to be alone on the set of a reality television show.

"Didn't know this seat was taken, sorry," Sylvain said, the tilt of his head saying _I'll leave if you want me to_.

Felix did want him to, but he shrugged. "There're more seats." He didn't want the company, he definitely didn't want to see Sylvain's face, but it seemed cruel to to hog the one non-bathroom invisible place. Hopefully Sylvain wasn't looking for a chat.

Sylvain gave Felix half a smile, not the bright grin that was normally plastered to his face, but something guarded and small. He pulled out his phone and began tapping away, a crease in his brow. If Felix had felt like conversation, he might have asked. Instead, he went back to resting his head in his hands and remembering how breathing worked.

Sometime later - not so long that it was time for them to head back, but long enough that Felix had almost forgotten about his silent company - Sylvain let out a string of curses.

Felix sat up, brows raised. He looked over at Sylvain, who looked back and after a moment rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry, that probably wasn't appropriate for public television."

Felix blinked a couple of times before responding, "No, it fucking was not," in his flattest tone.

Chuckling, Sylvain shook his head. "Definitely fucking not." He watched Felix for a moment, maybe waiting for Felix to ask him what that had been about or maybe waiting for Felix to turn away, before shaking his head and turning back to his phone.

That was when Felix finally gave in and said, "So who's the asshole?"

Sylvain slowly blinked up from his phone, then laughed. "Here I thought you'd never ask."

Felix narrowed his eyes. "I can take back the question."

Sylvain laughed harder. "Sorry, you really are something, though." Felix felt cold fury bubbling up in his chest, but before he had the chance to storm off, Sylvain continued, "And everyone's the asshole. You ever find yourself in a situation when you know you have to help someone, because they deserve the help, but they make it so damn hard to want to help them?"

"That's very vague," Felix said, despite knowing exactly the feeling Sylvain described.

"The rest is confidential." Sylvain winked, melancholy melting back into his ever present grin.

"Why even bring it up, then?"

"Guess I just needed to vent and you happened to be here," he paused and then rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry."

Felix rolled his eyes. "I asked."

* * *

The Technical challenge was cannoli, which proved to be a problem for Felix. First of all, he had never used a deep fryer before, which perhaps wouldn't have been an issue if there also wasn't a sinking stone in the core of Felix. It was stupid, just a phone call. It wasn't like he wasn't already well aware that his father was dead. He'd attended that funeral, black tie, dark suit, a bouquet of flowers and everything. By now, he should have long been over it. By now, it shouldn't have been distracting him from watching frying pastry.

When he pulled out the cannoli, Felix cringed. The first batch was too dark a brown to be anything but burnt. It wasn't yet charcoal, at least, and it was early enough in the competition that it probably wouldn't be a fatal mistake. But, he _knew_ he could do better.

His next batch came open while frying, pimply pancakes bobbing in the oil. He fished out the shell and stuck the filling on top, feeling an inevitable sense of doom. There was the tremble of his bottom lip and clench of his stomach that Felix normally fought back by finding a punching bag. But at the moment he could only keep moving while streams of tears spilled from his eyes. Fucking pathetic.

He placed tenth in the Technical - not the very last place, but somehow it was almost worse to be second to last.

* * *

It was evening, and downstairs in the hotel room, most everyone else was playing board games again. Mercedes had invited him, a concerned, maternal look on her face. But, Felix couldn't manage it at the moment. Stupid. In the grand scheme of things, none of this mattered. This competition hadn't been something he'd intended to participate in. The friendships he was making here were temporary. Maybe some people would find lasting connections, but he knew he wouldn't be one of them.

He didn't want to think about the other source of his ill mood. He'd spent the entire year thinking of his father's death, getting his affairs in order, selling his father's home, putting heirlooms in storage because it felt wrong to throw them away, but it also felt wrong to cling to them. Felix should have been an expert at dealing with grief.

Sighing, he pulled his covers over his head. Tomorrow, he'd just have to be better.

* * *

Building a castle out of biscuits was one of the strangest things Felix had yet to do. The Showstopper was to take a children's story and turn it into a biscuit sculpture. Felix's was a castle, with eleven swans circling it and on top, sitting tied to a stake was a young woman knitting sweaters. The Wild Swans.

The story was simple - a princess whose brothers were cursed and her determination to free them from the curse by knitting sweaters. It was not an exciting story, the protagonist fought no battles, but Felix had fallen in love with it when Glenn had read it to him in their childhood. It had stuck with him through the years.

Maybe it was because Glenn had read it to him not too long after their mother had died, when Felix had needed a reassurance that not all heroes had to find blood on their hands. Maybe it was the reassurance that it was possible to save others without doing harm. A funny thing for Felix to latch onto, given anyone who knew Felix back then also knew the numerous fights he'd gotten into through high school.

The problem with biscuit castles was that variations in temperature and humidity could have massive effects on stability. Today was hot and humid in the tent, and Felix found that the royal icing that had worked fine back when he practiced with Annette now was a sticky mess and his castle wobbled.

It was still holding together, but barely, and the faces on his swans were smudgy messes. If he had more time, this would have been fixable. But, when Felix looked up, he saw that there were fifteen minutes left and he still had to figure out how to make the swans stick to the castle without it crumbling down. The prospect set his heart racing. The probability of failure was high and if the castle collapsed, Felix would surely be out of the competition.

He started low, placing the bottom swans first, hoping that they would give him some of the extra stability he needed. One by one they went on and as they did Felix could all but hear his castle creaking and cracking.

Five minutes left and he still had five swans to go.

He swallowed and were he less used to constant stress, Felix was certain his hand would be trembling. He looked between the castle and the swan, trying to decide if he could get away with simply propping some swans on the ground when he heard a now familiar voice going, "Hey, need a hand?"

Sylvain leaned against Felix's station, head tilted. His biscuit sculpture stood neatly on its tray, ready for evaluation. Felix's first impulse was to hiss at Sylvain to fuck off, but then Sylvain added, "I owe you for earlier," and it cut off Felix's fumes.

Another inhale, and Felix said, "Yeah, could you help hold that steady?" Sylvain nodded, and held Felix's castle up as Felix finished putting the last of the swans up. Then, together, they transferred it to Felix's display tray.

"That's really gorgeous," Sylvain told Felix.

Felix looked at the melting swans and laughed mirthlessly.

"No, I'm serious."

Felix shrugged, ignoring the rising warmth in his chest.

* * *

In the end, Felix barely squeezed by. He was pretty certain he'd been in the running for going home, especially considering the look Hannamen had given him when he saw the swans' melting faces. Felix's only salvation had been his gingerbread - it'd been exactly the right balance of crisp, soft and spiced.

The person going home was a woman named Petra. Felix hadn't actually spoken to her before, but the tears streaming down Dorothea's face as she hugged Petra good-bye still hit something inside Felix. He'd never been good at good-byes.

But, like the week before, anyone who was able was going out for good-bye drinks. When Felix had brought up that he'd missed last weeks good-bye to hang out with Annette and Ingrid, they'd insisted he stick around this week.

So, Felix now found himself settling down awkwardly in a low lit bar. It had a homey aesthetic - low lit lantern lights, rustic wooden tables, couches around a fireplace and a friendly bartender, Raphael, who looked a bit like a lumberjack and greeted them with a booming voice. He hugged Petra tightly when he found out that she was the one who'd be leaving. Despite being half his size Petra was the one to lift him off the ground during the hug.

After ordering an IPA, Felix sat down on the couch by the fireplace, legs curled under him. He felt warm and cozy in a way that let him drift and let the aching feeling that'd been haunting him all weekend go. Mercedes sat nearby, engaged in a discussion with Dedue over, of all things, theology.

Felix had once wanted to believe in the Goddess - he used to picture that she looked like his mother, that she was his mother and watched over him. But, now the entire subject made him vaguely squirmy and so he let himself tune out the conversation to watch the flickering of the fire and not think.

He didn't notice when Sylvain sank into the couch next to him. It was only at some point that Felix blinked up and saw the man seated there, leaning back and slowly sipping on a glass of red wine. His teal button up shirt had the top two buttons unbuttoned, his hair was artfully tousled and despite the long day, his slacks were still crisply creased as he had one long leg folded over the other.

In this moment, Felix felt too tired to deny the fact that Sylvain was absolutely gorgeous. Had it been a year ago, had there been no competition between them, Felix might have gone up to Sylvain to try his luck. For a multitude of reasons, Felix wasn't much of a flirt. But when he felt bold, he knew the sort of sharp words that could convince a person to fall into bed with him. Too bad the only person he'd ever convinced to stay for long had been Dimitri.

"What's up?" Sylvain asked, long lashes fluttering as his eyes opened. Felix realized he'd been staring and felt his entire face heat up.

"If you fall asleep, that's going to fall over," he tilted his chin towards Sylvain's wine glass.

Sylvain straightened the glass then held it out in a mock-toast to Felix before draining the glass. "Sorry, it's one of those weeks."

Felix raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?" He didn't understand what Sylvain was apologizing for, but he also was having 'one of those weeks' and thus didn't feel like asking. Instead he took a gulp of the IPA and went back to staring at the fire.

"You're not much of a talker, are you?" Sylvain asked.

"I'm not." And maybe because the alcohol had loosened something in him, or maybe because he was tired, Felix added, "So, I don't see why you keep trying to talk to me."

A dusting of pink colored Sylvain's cheeks, though Felix couldn't be certain it wasn't just the fire light and the wine. Shifting to sit up straighter, Sylvain said, "What can I say, I'm the friendly sort. And who knows, maybe that mysterious silent act has me curious."

Felix snorted. Mysterious silent act. Right. He thought back to his near empty apartment, its only personality coming from either Demon's cat toys or the random nicknacks Annette had gifted him over the years. Was a person mysterious if when you looked under the surface there was nothing else there but cold bitterness? "Maybe you're reading too much into it."

Reaching out, Sylvain lightly flicked his fingers against Felix's ponytail. It sent a shiver down Felix's spine, but he didn't jerk away. He just turned his gaze to Sylvain. "Flirting with me isn't going to make me go easy on you."

Quirking his brows up, Sylvain said, in an exaggeratedly lascivious tone, "What if I wanted you to go hard on me?"

Felix coughed or maybe laughed. Something between the two, because that juvenile joke had somehow both made him want to kick Sylvain and giggle like a ten year old. Well, he supposed that answered the question of what would have happened if Felix had tried to sleep with Sylvain a year ago - he would have kicked Sylvain out of bed because the man had no sense of timing.

When Felix looked up there was a playful smirk on Sylvain's lips and a glittering light in his eyes. Fuck. Felix breathed out, trying exhale away the flittering attraction dancing in the pit of his stomach. And because he couldn't get any sort of decent words out, Felix said, "I don't get you."

Sylvain chuckled, tilting his head. "There's not much to get, though if you have questions, I can try finding answers."

Rolling his eyes, Felix was about to make a snide comment in return - something asking about where Sylvain learned to be so annoying - but was cut off by the ringing of a cell phone. Sylvain jolted up, pulling the device from his pocket and then scowling at it. "Whoops, sorry gorgeous, but got some asshole calling me up and unfortunately I can't ignore this." Then he stood, dusting himself off and walking out to the patio.

Felix was left flushed and staring too long at the spot where Sylvain had been sitting. _Gorgeous_. Fuck. The word made Felix's fingers twitch. It shouldn't have, but then it really had been so long since anyone had made the effort to flirt with Felix, longer still since Felix had been interested in return. The timing couldn't have been worse.

Picking himself up, Felix went to get a second drink and then sat back down by the fire. As he sipped, his eyes drifted back and forth between where Sylvain had been sitting and the patio. But, it wasn't as if he was waiting for Sylvain to come back. It wasn't. He forced himself to sweep the room and his eyes landed on Ashe who smiled at Felix and went to join him.

"We survive to fight another day," Ashe grinned, holding up a cider in good cheer.

Mercedes turned to giggle. "Oh dear, I didn't know this was a battle to the death."

"Oh of course it is," Ashe grinned wider, holding his glass up higher. "My sister won't let me come home if I lose this."

"Well that's unfortunate," Mercedes said, "Because I am planning on winning." Her smile curved up into a sly, playful thing that made Felix fairly certain that if someone ever crossed her, it would turn sharp enough to kill.

Dedue laughed warm and low, and then Felix had no choice but to join in on the laughter. It lifted something in Felix, and he managed to join in on a conversation of playful jabs. Though this quickly devolved into everyone being complimentary and Felix couldn't help but wonder if everyone who joined this competition was made of sugar. Except for himself, of course.

Though, as the night wore on, Felix found his eyes drifting back and forth between the crowd and the patio door. The morning heat had made a sharp turn into a bitter chill, and yet Sylvain had not come back in. It wasn't Felix's concern but that didn't stop Felix from eventually standing up. "Sorry," he said, before heading outside. Part of him was almost expecting Sylvain to have gone while he hadn't been paying attention. It seemed more likely than what Felix saw - Sylvain leaned against the railing, gaze looking past the flashing lights of cars rushing by.

Felix hesitated, unsure if he was intruding, but before he could change his mind, Sylvain said, "Hey." There was something rough to his voice, like he'd been shouting or maybe crying. Both seemed unlikely.

"Hey," Felix said in return. "If you freeze your ass out here, you'll ruin my chance of beating it later."

Sylvain chuckled. "Well, I'd hate to deny you the opportunity." He turned around, and Felix was relieved to see that his eyes did not bear the red rimmed marks of tears.

Felix shrugged and then, despite himself, asked, "Did you want me to ask what the void this was about again."

Sylvain laughed, "You're not going to let me live that down, huh? No. It's fine. Same assholes, a lot to think about, throw in a few daddy issues and really you got a typical Sunday night for me."

Felix quirked his brows up.

"I mean, I could talk about my daddy issues if you want to hear about those." He grinned, all mischief. If Felix was standing closer, he would have shoved Sylvain.

"Save those for your therapist."

Sylvain chuckled, and then pushed himself away from the railing. He brushed past Felix, fingers just grazing along Felix's thigh, before making it to the door. And if Felix wasn't already aware of his unfortunate attraction to Sylvain, the flare of heat that rose in his stomach would have tipped him off.

* * *

The drive back to Felix's apartment wasn't exceptionally long - three hours and Felix hadn't drunk enough that night to warrant staying in a hotel room. Besides, he was used to having to concentrate long past when any reasonable person would be awake.

Unfortunately, his car proved less fit than he was. It was an old car - he'd got it about seven years ago and it hadn't been new then. But it had been the first major purchase that Felix had made on his own budget, and it had been a mostly reliable old sedan, so Felix had took pride in her. And if she'd been rickety over the past few years, Felix had been too busy mourning family members and failed relationships to notice. But in this moment, when his car made a rattling noise, and then something between a sigh and a hiss, before giving in and dying, did Felix regret not keeping up the maintenance of the old machine.

He checked under the hood, for any luck, but even with Felix's limited knowledge, he could tell his girl was fucked. Shit. He could probably afford a new car, especially with the inheritance he'd gotten from his father, but he had work the next day, and dealing with his car getting towed and then finding a way home was going to be a headache.

A pair of headlights shone on Felix as another car pulled over behind him. He reached into his pocket for his pocket knife and held it up as a man exited the other car.

"Whoa!" Sylvain said, holding up his hands. "I'm not here to murder you."

Felix blinked. Off all the people on this green earth, motherfucking Sylvain. "Then what do you want?" Felix said, pocketing the knife.

"Looks like you could use a bit of help, is all."

Felix shrugged, looking off to the side. "Car died," he admitted.

"Figured," Sylvain said. "I'd offer to take a second look, but I'm shit with machines. I can, however, give you a ride home."

"You don't even know where I live."

"You could tell me - don't worry, I got tomorrow off anyhow."

Felix frowned. "What do you do anyway?" He asked this less because he was curious and more because he needed another moment before he could accept the kindness.

"Huh? Oh. Lawyer. But, if want legal council, I gotta warn you, I'm only an expert on employees' rights, though I did dabble in corporate law for a while." He smiled.

Felix nodded, not really processing the information, before saying, "A ride would be good, if you can wait while I deal with," he gestured to his car.

The tow truck took an hour to get there and by then, Felix had finished taking anything he wanted to keep out of his car and into Sylvain's. Sylvain had offered Felix his backseat for sleeping in, promising to wake him when the truck arrived, but Felix had refused.

So they sat as Sylvain shared music - his tastes were eclectic. One song was a bubbly pop tune that Felix was pretty sure he'd heard the last time Annette had given him a ride. One was a heavy metal song that reminded Felix of the sort of music Glenn had been obsessed with. There was dad rock, coffee shop music and even something that could best be described as _techno yodeling_.

Some of the songs had stories to them - an ex had introduced it, or a client, or Sylvain had heard it when he'd been traveling. What could have been awkward silence or both of them staring at their phones turned into something akin to a pleasant conversation, if one person doing most of the talking and the other mostly nodding along could be counted as a conversation. But then, Felix tended to like conversations like this the best. By the time the truck came, Felix was almost relaxed.

On the way home, Felix fell asleep. He hadn't meant to, but before he knew it, his eyes had drifted closed and the next time he opened them was when Sylvain lightly tapped his shoulder. "This the place?" Sylvain asked, gesturing to Felix's apartment complex - a plain white building turned a cool pink by the rising sun.

"Yeah," Felix said, voice rough from sleep. "Do you live far?" He asked, because his sleep addled mind wasn't able to think better of it.

"Hm? Not really, to be honest. Just across town. Didn't know we were basically neighbors."

Felix blinked. "Really?"

Sylvain nodded. "Give me your number and I'll text you my address. Seems only fair you know where I live since, you know, I know where you do."

And Felix did. When he got the message from Sylvain, he also noticed a 'you better still be alive' text from Annette. Ah yeah, he was supposed to have texted her when he got home. He needed to text her now, because he also needed a ride to work from her, and maybe a ride to the car dealership if she had time before work. Fuck, this would be a busy day.

"Thanks," Felix said, getting out of Sylvain's car.

"No problem. Would hate to lose competition to a busted car." And then he waved as he drove off.


	3. Week 3 - Bread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _This week was Felix's chance to redeem himself. Last week's disaster had made Felix realize one thing - he was not ready to leave Fodlan's Fantastic Baking Show - and thus he carefully planned out his bakes for the week.Their first challenge was flat bread with either a dip or a filling to match. Felix opted for naan and chutney, which was an easy way to show off his strength in flavors, as long as he didn't go too spicy for Hannamen. But just in case the hot chili chutney did end up too spicy, he had a cool mint chutney to help soothe afterwards._
> 
> _By the time Felix began to knead the dough, he felt that edge of perfect focus, of the comfortable groove that he felt in moments where he knew exactly what he was doing. It was the dough coming together, turning from a lumpy uneven textured mess into a smooth, glossy ball. It was the light strain on his muscles and softness beneath his fingers. It was-- It was the clang of a metal bowl hitting the floor._  
> 

Felix couldn't quite believe he'd agreed to allow Sylvain to drive him to the bake-off. It wasn't as if he couldn't drive himself - his new car would have been more than sufficient. But, Sylvain had offered and Felix had found himself saying yes.

And that perhaps would have been the weirdest part of all this, if Felix didn't also take into account that he and Sylvain had spent the entire week exchanging texts. It had started innocently enough. Annette had spent half an hour going from chewing Felix out to getting the story of how he got home out of him to teasing Felix about Sylvain and not-so-subtly implying that Felix should act upon his ill advised crush. And only because Felix owed Annette an apology and for absolutely no other reason, Felix had texted Sylvain a simple _thx again_.

That should have been the end of it, but somehow it had devolved to a weeklong exchange of texts. Maybe it had started when Sylvain had accidentally texted Felix a photo of his ferret, Daisy - a dark coated, white bellied, precious thing, that Felix couldn't resist from demanding more photos of. It could have ended there, but Demon had decided to hop onto the kitchen counter while Felix was making bread and turn himself from a black cat to a white one. Without really thinking it through, Felix had sent a photo of that to not only Annette and Ingrid, but to Sylvain as well. And from there, it was little things, mostly chatter about Daisy and Demon, that eventually ended up with Sylvain offering Felix a ride. Sylvain only lived twenty minutes away from Felix, which Felix had absolutely not found out by entering his address into google maps. He also absolutely did not look at the street view to see that Sylvain lived in a pretty red bricked building with white molding and black, metal balconies.

It'd all felt a little surreal. Even sitting in the car, with Sylvain blasting his baffling array of music, Felix couldn't quite comprehend that he was not having some sort of fever dream. Though, his dreams would not have been able to capture how Sylvain somehow managed to both be completely off key and yet paradoxically sound good.

It all became weirder when Sylvain's car, in the feminine mechanical voice of humanity's future destruction, said, "Motherfucker is calling." Then the phone rang with 'Barbie Girl' and Sylvain groaned.

As the song played on, Felix raised an eyebrow and asked, "Motherfucker?"

"My dad," Sylvain's lips curled into a sheepish smile, "Because he, you know, fucked my mom."

For a moment, Felix sat blinking, torn between juvenile laughter and the urge to slam his hand into his face. He settled for shaking his head in disbelief. His father had never been anything but 'father' in his phone. Even now, despite the sheer irrationality of it, despite long having been disconnected, despite the fact that Felix winced each time he scrolled past the contact, the number remained.

'Barbie Girl' stopped and the car went to voicemail. "You can't continue to avoid--" began the voice of presumably Sylvain's father. Instantly, Sylvain interrupted, "Siri, mute that please." He let out a heavy breath and stared forward with the same empty gaze Felix had seen back in the bar.

Eventually, Sylvain turned his music back on.

* * *

This week was Felix's chance to redeem himself. Last week's disaster had made Felix realize one thing - he was not ready to leave Fodlan's Fantastic Baking Show - and thus he carefully planned out his bakes for the week.Their first challenge was flat bread with either a dip or a filling to match. Felix opted for naan and chutney, which was an easy way to show off his strength in flavors, as long as he didn't go too spicy for Hannamen. But just in case the hot chili chutney did end up too spicy, he had a cool mint chutney to help soothe afterwards.

By the time Felix began to knead the dough, he felt that edge of perfect focus, of the comfortable groove that he felt in moments where he knew exactly what he was doing. It was the dough coming together, turning from a lumpy uneven textured mess into a smooth, glossy ball. It was the light strain on his muscles and softness beneath his fingers. It was-- It was the clang of a metal bowl hitting the floor.

Felix looked up, momentarily worried he'd been the one to do so. But no, Sylvain was staring wide eyed at the chopped vegetables spilling from a mixing bowl that was rolling towards Felix. Setting aside his dough, Felix wiped his hands on his apron before bending over to scoop up the bowl. He handed it to Sylvain.

"Woops," Sylvain said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Guess I'm going to have to chop up some more of those."

Felix nodded and turned back to his work station. But, he found his gaze traveling to Sylvain over every so often after that. Sylvain wasn't doing anything odd, and that in and of itself made Felix itch with concern. He'd grown used to seeing Sylvain goofing around as he baked, though maybe Felix was paying too much attention to Sylvain. Nothing about him screamed distress - his ever present, easy smile had not vanished. He still made a dumb "Pita Parker" joke at Catherine when she stopped by to check on him. And if the melancholy mood that had hung over Sylvain in the car still lingered, what was it Felix's business?

* * *

"Hey asshole," Felix said, pressing a cold water bottle to the side of Sylvain's head.

Sylvain jolted up- he'd been sitting on the hotel couch, turning his phone over in his hands for as long as the rest of them had been playing Splendor, a game that had instantly given Felix a throbbing headache. "What's up handsome?" Sylvain asked, after blinking a couple of times. "Getting lonely without me?"

Felix scowled. "You wish." He crossed his arms and tilted his head towards the group. "But Dorothea's been complaining. Says it's not the same without you." That wasn't a complete lie. She had mentioned that if anyone would enjoy an overcomplicated strategy game, it'd be Sylvain.

"D'aw." Sylvain pressed a hand to his chest. "I feel loved." He looked over to Dorothea, who raised one perfectly plucked brow at him. Mercedes smiled sweetly while Ashe mouthed 'save me.' Laughing, Sylvain pocketed his phone. "Alright, I guess I have to come over now."

He stood, straightened his clothes and then draped an arm around Felix's shoulders. Felix promptly shoved it off. They made their way over and were greeted by Mercedes and Dedue making very serious faces over a set of cards and chips. Then Dedue's lips curled up up ever so slightly before he set down a few chips and plucked a few cards. Mercedes eyes widened.

"I believe I win." Dedue smiled.

Clapping her hands, Mercedes said, "You do!" Then she glanced around the circle of players. "So, another round?"

Sylvain took a seat, "Deal me in. And uh, explain the rules of this one to me..."

Felix opted to spend this round perched atop the couch armrest next to Sylvain. The game itself was, once more, making him go cross-eyed, but every time he looked up, Ashe was making some goofy face and gesturing at a random card while the players deliberated. Felix had to bite back his snickers, especially when someone looked up and Ashe went serious and still in mock innocence.

Then, 'Barbie Girl' started playing. Sylvain cringed. "Shit, give me two minutes guys, I need to take this." He left, opening his phone and Felix could make out, "Can we talk another time," before the closing of the lobby door cut Sylvain off.

Felix's lips tightened into a thin line. He didn't want to care about this - it was far from his business, and he was not going to start giving a shit about someone who'd only be in his life for a few more weeks. He wasn't.

Irritated, Felix slid down into Sylvain's seat, then looked over the game. From what little Felix had bothered to understand, Sylvain was clearly winning. Hm. Making brief, but purposeful eye contact with the others in the round - Dorothea, Dedue and Mercedes - Felix started moving some of Sylvain's chips and cards, handing them to the others. He finished redistributing most of the pile by the time Sylvain came back.

The plastered on grin on Sylvain's face cracked into blinking. Felix looked Sylvain straight in the eye as he handed Mercedes the last of Sylvain's chips. "Was making sure no one cheated," Felix said. And then Sylvain started to laugh, warm and bright, a tension that Felix hadn't even noticed before dissolving from his frame.

* * *

The Showstopper of the week was to make a filled, braided bread. Felix's plan involved a spiced, tomato and bell pepper filling and a dough made golden by saffron. The bread was braided so that streaks of red peaked through and then was wrapped together into a crown. It looked stunning when it came out right, but it had taken Felix a few tries to figure out the right timing so that the core of his creation was not undercooked. It needed to be precise. But, that was all part of the fun.

In front of Felix, Sylvain was humming as he pulled the ingredients for his braided stollen together. Whatever specter had been haunting him the previous day seemed to have departed. He pressed a wooden spoon to his lips before turning around and pointing it at Felix. Oh yeah, he was definitely doing just fine.

Ashe let out a wolf whistle. Felix turned around to glare at him. But before Felix could catch his eyes, Ashe managed to get back to working on his bread - what was to be a savory mint-basil-orange filled wreath. Then there was the now familiar giggle of Mercedes. Felix gave her a flat look, but she just smiled as she serenely peeled apples for her strawberry-apple bread.

It should have been irritating, but Felix couldn't help but feel the flutter of fondness for this bunch. They'd gone from complete strangers to a comforting facet of Felix's existence in just three weeks and he really didn't know what to do about that. He didn't want to think about any of them going home - it didn't seem likely this week anyhow. All of them had done solidly in the Signature, Ashe and Dedue had taken the top two spots in the Technical and Mercedes had been sixth, right behind Felix's fifth. Despite his odd mood, Sylvain had taken fourth. They'd only be out if they royally screwed up on the Showstopper, which Felix refused to consider as an option. But he was determined to kick all of their asses on this particular challenge.

While Felix's dough rose, he put his bell peppers in the oven to roast and started chopping the sun dried tomatoes. Felix didn't actually cook much for himself these days, his rubbish bin was littered with take-out boxes. Somehow, he found it easier to make things to share with others than to feed himself, but he didn't really want to examine why. If asked, he would say it was because he could - dinner had been his job back when he lived with his father and Glenn, because neither of them could be trusted anywhere near an oven. Dimitri nearly poisoned Felix with milk a week past the expiration date, so Felix had also done the cooking when they lived together. Really, that was the perk of living alone - no one he had to feed. Well, except for Demon and that little bastard didn't count.

"Spicy again, I see," Catherine said, pulling Felix away from his thoughts.

He shrugged. He liked spicy food - the warmth it brought and the way Annette's face would scrunch up when Felix would chomp on hot peppers in front of her. "Don't like the heat, stay out of the kitchen."

Catherine paused before bursting into laughter. "Oh wow, was that a joke? And here I thought you were as humourless as Shamir."

"Hey." Shamir glared at her wife. "Someone has to be serious in this relationship."

"Come on, I'm serious about you."

Shamir rolled her eyes and went back to her conversation with Lorenz, who looked even paler than usual. Felix could smell something burning from his side of the tent.

"She loves me," Catherine stage-whispered to Felix.

"Hmmm," Felix hummed, tamping down a smile. He'd even managed to become fond of the hosts, somehow, but he was not going to make that obvious.

After patting Felix's shoulder, Catherine moved on to Dedue's station. He was making cardamon, date and rose-water filled challah bread and offered her a spoonful of his filling to try. Her eyes went wide and bright, and then she called Shamir over to get a taste. Turning his gaze back to his station, Felix let his lips curl up.

When it was announced that Dedue had taken Star Baker, Felix found himself minding less than he'd expected. There was next week to prove himself, and this week didn't go too badly. He lightly elbowed Dedue in congratulations, as Sylvain and Ashe high-fived him and Mercedes pulled them all into a hug. None of them were going home - it was Lorenz they were saying good-bye to. Felix had never actually spoken to him - the man reminded him too much of politicians who would smile at his father and as soon as it benefited them, would turn their backs. So, Felix wasn't planning on feeling too bad at the good-bye party.

* * *

Despite the fact they were on speaking terms again, Felix rarely saw Dimitri these days. He often forgot the changes in Dimitri's appearance - the new bulk, the eye-patch, the long hair. Felix still remembered him as the gangly young man he'd spent nights mocking bad movies with, so when Dimitri appeared on the television screen of the bar, Felix did not recognize him at first. And then he did.

Heart racing, Felix tried to steady himself. Yet, all he could think of was six years ago, to the last time he'd seen Dima's portrait staring at him on the TV - there'd been Dima's parents on the screen as well. _Presidential Peace Talk Interrupted by Bombing_. "At the moment it is uncertain who, if anyone has survived this crisis," the news anchor spoke in a voice barely masking her anxiety. And while Felix's father, the President's Chief of Staff at the time, answered countless phone calls, Felix could only think _are Dima and Glenn okay_. They learned Dima was alive the next day, but it was a week before anyone bothered identifying Glenn. There'd been so many dead, and Glenn had just been an intern. Lucky to be there, lucky to have the opportunity to get an in with such highly ranking politicians at such a young age, lucky to be a barely recognizable corpse, lucky--

"Hey," a hand clamped down onto Felix's shoulder. He jerked away to find himself staring up at Sylvain. "You okay?" Sylvain continued asking, brows furrowed together

Felix swallowed, looking back at the TV. "Dimitri Blaiddyd, son of former President Lambert Blaiddyd, has announced his intentions of running for the senate. After five years out of the public eye--"

Felix turned to Sylvain once more. "I'm fine," he said, voice shaking more than he wanted.

Sylvain glanced around the room, then yawned. "You know, I'm getting kind of tired. Mind heading out early?" Everyone else was still chattering, energy high. Even Lorenz seemed to not be quite so down, though that might have been because his boyfriend had decided to drop by.

Felix narrowed his eyes, pride stinging at the obvious ploy. "You're not subtle, Gautier."

"Hm? Don't know what you're talking about. Must be the exhaustion," Sylvain said, all too gently. Felix wanted to be offended. He wanted to scream at Sylvain to fuck off and mind his own damned business. He wanted to not feel the too familiar shaking of his hands when he thought back to that horrible year. But, he could only manage gratitude.

"Fine." Felix stood, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

* * *

As they crossed the parking lot, Sylvain pulled out his phone for the thousandth time this weekend, frowned at the screen and then put it away. "If it makes you feel better, I didn't actually want to stick around," Sylvain said.

"Your dad?" Felix asked, if only to avoid letting the conversation land on his own problems. Besides, it was clear that Sylvain was dealing with something in the present, while Felix was simply letting the past hang over him.

The sound that escaped from Sylvain was probably meant to be a laugh, but it reminded Felix more of shattering glass. "Yeah, that fucker, among others." Taking a deep breath, Sylvain opened the car door. "But how about I blast some music and we don't talk about it?"

Sliding into the passenger's seat, Felix nodded.

Neither of them spoke as Sylvain drove. Felix just stared out the window, watching the flashing of lights and trying not to think about Dimitri's campaign. He hadn't heard about it beforehand. While he and Dimitri only met up once every other month or so to have dinner with Ingrid, Felix had somehow assumed that he'd be told about something so major. And maybe Felix had been the one to cut Dimitri out first, and maybe they were only friends again because Dimitri took the initiative to reconnect, but they were friends again, weren't they?

Pulling out his cell, Felix texted Ingrid _did u know bout dima?_

It was only a few seconds later that his phone buzzed. _What do you mean about Dima?_

But, Felix didn't even have time to do more than start typing his reply before his phone started going off.

_Wait_

_What the void_

_The bastard_

_He didn't tell me shit_

_Is he even well enough to do this?_

_Gotta go, I'm going to demand an explanation because what the fuck Dimitri_

Blinking for a moment, Felix remembered exactly why he didn't like being on the receiving end of Ingrid's ire. So, Dimitri hadn't even told Ingrid. Okay. Well. A relieved chuckle escaped Felix. Fuck, he didn't want to understand his own relief. Turning his screen black, Felix pocketed his phone and fell back into his seat, eyes closing. "Fuck," he exhaled, forgetting for a moment that he had company.

"You okay there?" Sylvain asked.

Felix's eyes blinked open. He hesitated, before sighing. "My uh..." Ex-boyfriend? Former best friend? Neither of those could really describe Dimitri, but it was difficult to find the words to describe Dimitri. They'd grown up together, were all of each other's firsts, had once planned to get married. Dimitri helped make the worst years of Felix's transition bearable and then had turned into someone so unrecognizable that Felix couldn't bear to be around him. And yeah, okay, Felix hadn't been as sympathetic then as he should have been and... and none of this could possibly matter to Sylvain. "My friend's running for office," Felix said.

"Oh?" Sylvain raised an eyebrow. "Well, tell them congratulations for me."

"I found out from the news," Felix said, before he could think better of it. Shit, what was he doing? Sylvain didn't need to know this. Not that there was anything to know. Felix had no business feeling hurt over this.

Briefly, Sylvain's gaze flickered from the road to Felix. "I'm going to guess there's a story there..."

"Yeah." Felix briefly considered elaborating. "Mind if I turn up the music?" He asked instead.

* * *

As the familiar lights of Fhirdiad became visible in the distance, Felix found himself wishing the drive could be a longer one. His apartment would be empty when he got back - Demon was spending the weekend with Annette - and Felix didn't exactly want to be alone. He didn't really want company either. He just wanted this feeling, like he was floating between time and space, like he didn't quite exist. It was easier than acknowledging that while he didn't miss Dimitri, he might have missed what they once shared.

"I was thinking of getting Denny's before turning in," Sylvain's voice cut through Felix's melancholy. "You could join me, if you're not feeling like crashing."

"I thought you were tired," Felix said. A plethora of illuminated billboards zoomed by the window, advertising sex, Seiros and legal council.

"Well, I am, but have you ever been so tired that you're hungry and then you're so hungry you can't sleep and then you get even more tired and then even more hungry? It's why Denny's exists."

"Isn't that stoners?"

"Okay, yeah, them too." Sylvain shrugged a shoulder. "Also depressed teenagers who want to spend the night hiding from their parents. But, that doesn't really answer my question."

Felix considered saying no, to preserve his pride and to avoid getting even more used to Sylvain's presence than he already was. He considered saying no, because he never had been good at saying yes. He considered saying no, but the thought of another night falling asleep to infomercials stopped him. "Fine, if you're that desperate for company."

"Oh wow." Sylvain snorted. "I know you're trying to insult me, but honestly, that's harsher on yourself."

Face heating, Felix huffed. "Whatever."

Sylvain's shoulders shook with laughter and he took a hand off the wheel to pat Felix's shoulder. "Don't worry buddy, I like you just fine."

If Sylvain wasn't driving the car, Felix would have been tempted to shove him. He might have still done it if there hadn't been a truck to their right - even at one in the morning, Fhirdiad's highways were far from empty. "Just... drive."

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Felix and Sylvain sat across from each other in a Denny's booth. Sylvain was stuffing his face with pancakes and eggs - _it's always the perfect time for breakfast_ \- had been his words. Felix had opted for steak, because he wasn't a heathen.

"So, are we going to talk about the big elephant in the room?" Sylvain asked, after swallowing more pancake in one bite than any human should be able to.

Felix sat back in his seat, raising his eyebrows. "You'll have to specify which one." It could have been whatever issues Sylvain was having with his father, it could have been the number of things Felix wasn't talking about, it could have been something else entirely because Felix couldn't picture what in the world Sylvain would want to have a conversation about at one in the morning.

"Well, you clearly think I'm hot."

Felix coughed, glad he had set his glass down. But, before he could actually respond to the absurd statement, Sylvain held up a hand. "And, I agree - I am hot. Also, so are you."

"You better be going somewhere with this," Felix said, eyes flickering to his knife as he contemplated murder.

"I could go a number of places with this. Just wanted to get it out in the open." The grin on Sylvain's face said many things, among them _punch me_ , but also _fuck me_. Felix was wavering between the two more than he would like.

"You realize we're competing against each other, right?"

Sylvain waved a fork in the air. "Eh, I suppose. But, I've played games of Monopoly that felt more ruthless than Fodlan's Fantastic. I mean, Monopoly's pretty ruthless, but you get the point."

"...Are you seriously propositioning me in a Denny's?"

"Sort of?" Sylvain shrugged. "I didn't want to proposition you in the car." He set down his fork and nudged his plate away. "Look, there's no pressure. Just think we could have a good time. Especially since it seems like we both have some steam to blow off."

Ah, so that was it. Of course. What else did Felix expect it to be? "We're not fucking in a Denny's bathroom."

Sylvain pressed a hand to his chest in mock affront. "What do you take me for? The last time I fucked anyone in a bathroom, I was seventeen. Also, it was at an IHOP. I have _some_ standards." He grinned. "But, is that a yes?"

Felix looked up at the tiled ceiling. Biting, the inside of his cheek, Felix weighed his options. No would be prudent, no would be safe, no would mean not having to regret his choices later. Looking back at Sylvain, Felix said, "My place." If he was going to do something stupid, then it should be on his own turf.

* * *

The ride over to Felix's place was surprisingly similar to the ride to Denny's. The only change had been Sylvain's hand sitting low on Felix's back as he opened doors for him and the way Sylvain's fingers lingered as he pulled away. When Felix called him out on it, Sylvain had made a dumb joke about seduction and Felix had decided that the whole conversation wasn't worth it. He did, however, make sure to open his own goddamn door when exiting the car before Sylvain could get out and do so for him.

Arms crossed, he waited for Sylvain to finish locking up the car. There was one more thing Felix had to make clear if they were actually going to hook-up. He liked talking about being trans as much as he liked talking about any other part of his life, not at all. But he knew better than to not say anything.

Sidling up next to Felix, Sylvain looped an arm around his waist, easy and comfortable, as if they'd been doing this forever. Felix rolled his eyes, then inhaled. "By the way, I'm trans," Felix said like he didn't feel the churning of old fear and rejection deep in his gut. Sylvain blinked, but he didn't pull away. "Oh, okay." He started to walk, tugging Felix along with him. "Thanks for telling me." Felix ignored the welling of gratitude - he refused to feel grateful for basic decency. Instead, he slid away from Sylvain's arm and took a couple of long strides forward to stay ahead.

"Are you always this clingy?" Felix asked.

"Only with people I really like." The smirk was almost audible in his voice, the irritating bastard. "But, I can back off if you're not into it."

Felix didn't deign responding to that. He unlocked his door, then opened it slowly, forgetting for a moment that Demon wasn't there to flee to the outside world. He was with Annette, who Felix had once more forgotten to text with regards to his safety. Quickly, he shot of _home sylvain is not a serial killer_ to her before letting Sylvain inside.

The room was just as he'd left it - blankets a messy pile on the couch, shoes scattered in front of the doorway, sweaters hanging off kitchen chairs. If Felix had wanted to impress Sylvain, he would have been embarrassed. As it was, he was fairly certain whatever inexplicable thing Sylvain found interesting about him wasn't going to be chased away by a messy apartment.

He lead Sylvain into the bedroom - the queen sized bed had a pile of clothes covering one side and Felix shoved them to the floor without glancing up to see what Sylvain's reaction might be. "Welcome," he said, belatedly, and turned to face his guest.

Sylvain tilted his head, his brows were furrowed. "You sure you're okay with--"

"Don't," Felix cut him off. "I don't do shit I don't want to do." It had just been a while and even longer since he actually knew the name of the person he dragged with him, longer still since he'd thought the person had a charming smile and pretty eyes. Not giving Sylvain a chance to open that stupid mouth of his again, Felix grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and dragged him down into a bruising kiss.


	4. Week 4 - Spice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _For the second time in this competition, Felix was decorating a biscuit swan with royal icing. He was also decorating a peacock, dove, robin and a whole flock of fantastical birds. The Showstopper was to be a spiced biscuit chandelier, where style counted as much as substance. It was a relief that his icing was not turning into a sticky, too drippy mess this time - he'd been careful to check the consistency in a small batch, making sure it would be just liquid enough to spread._
> 
> _For extra flair, Felix had brought a set of small paint brushes with him. As the icing on the swan dried, he brushed light, quick strokes to give the illusion of feathers. For his peacock, he'd painted on the rainbow of its tail. The white dove was made of star anise and almond biscuit-dough - Felix only added small flourishes of gray icing to give its feathers depth, and the ginger-cinnamon-cardamom robin only had its red belly painted. With his apron stained by multicolored drops of icing, and brushes fanned together alongside a cup full of muddied water, Felix felt a bit like a kindergartener creating his grand masterpiece, or perhaps a mad scientist on the verge of giving life to a monster that would ravage the earth._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... this wasn't planned as a Christmas update, but here's a happy accident. Happy holidays to those who are celebrating something today and a happy Wednesday to everyone! :D

Felix woke to the sun leaking through his blinds and to the constellation of freckles that spread across Sylvain's shoulder. He was curled half-way on top of Sylvain, the blanket laying across them in a crooked diagonal. In red, 8:49 AM shone on his alarm clock. Felix inhaled, the lingering scent of Sylvain's citrus and rose cologne tickling his nose. And for that moment, in the comfortable stillness of his room, Felix allowed himself not to process why exactly he was waking up this way.

It didn't last.

Fuck.

He'd fucked Sylvain. Not that it'd been a bad time. In fact, it had been some of the best sex Felix had since he'd broken up with Dimitri. But, that was part of the problem, wasn't it? Groaning, Felix flopped an arm over his eyes. At least he was working a late shift tonight, so he could get Sylvain out, pick up Demon, nap and avoid considering the implications of the previous night.

Taking another breath, he slid off of Sylvain. From under his arm, he peaked at the man who somehow managed to look too perfectly put together for being asleep. Sylvain's hair was spread like a halo across the pillow, his full lips were ever so slightly parted. Unlike Felix, who bore the scars of surgery and a job full of unanticipatable accidents, Sylvain's skin was unmarked by life. Well, unless one wanted to count the hickeys Felix had left along his chest. Felix couldn't quite resist lifting his arm to trace a finger along them, as if mapping newly discovered stars.

He didn't quite notice Sylvain waking until Sylvain said, "Morning gorgeous," his voice rough from sleep.

Felix jerked away, face heating.

"Aw, come on, I didn't scare you, did I?" Sylvain chuckled. Rolling to the side, he faced Felix. There was something so easy and open on his face and it made everything in Felix feel jittery and warm. _This could become more_ he thought unwillingly.

Felix looked over Sylvain's shoulder. "As if."

He waited, cheeks too hot, until Sylvain's lip curled up into something of a smile. "You know, your hair looks nice down." He lifted his hand and let it hover near Felix's face, as if asking permission to draw closer.

Felix considered pulling away, considered drawing closer, considered reaching out himself, to brush the stray curls falling into Sylvain's eyes away. But, before he could make his decision, 'Barbie Girl' started playing. He was starting to hate that stupid song.

With a groan, Sylvain sat up and untagged his legs from the blanket. Naked, he crossed Felix's room to where his trousers lay draped over a chair and pulled his phone from his pocket. "What's so important that you have to call me first thing in the morning?" A pause. "We don't have a meeting scheduled today." Another pause. "And why didn't you-- Fine, fine. I'll be there within an hour." After shoving the phone back into the pocket of his slacks, Sylvain muttered something that sounded like, "And fuck you too."

He turned back to Felix and, wincing, said, "Sorry, I guess I have to run."

At lest Felix did not have to figure out how he was going to say good-bye to Sylvain.

* * *

Annette was perched on Felix's kitchen table, dangling a cat toy for Demon to jump after. As she teased his cat, Felix rolled out the rough puff pastry that was the current base for his miniature mincemeat tarts.

"I know I'm your friend so I'm biased, but Dimitri's a jerk and I can totally chew him out for you. If you want me to, that is," Annette said, jerking the bird on a string just out of Demon's grasp.

Felix shook his head. "Don't worry, Ingrid has that covered."

Ingrid had it more than covered, actually. Dimitri had called Felix the previous night to apologize and gave one of his long, overly sincere speeches about how much he valued his friends and all that sort of bullshit. When Felix asked just how long Ingrid had yelled at him for, Dimitri admitted it may have been over an hour. So, really, it was fine. Really. Fine.

Felix folded the pastry for the third time, forcing his thoughts away from the previous night and back to the moment. "Anyway, you're too tiny to be threatening," he said, teasing grin curling up on his lips.

On the table, his phone vibrated for the fifth time since he'd begun this pastry.

"Excuse you!" Annette lobbed an apple from Felix's fruit bowl at his head. Felix caught it, took a bite and smirking, set it down. "You're evil," Annette added. "If your pastries weren't so good, I wouldn't be friends with you." She was pouting. It was adorable.

"Hmm." Felix hummed, making his fourth fold and listening to his phone vibrate yet again. "In that case, maybe I shouldn't give you any tarts."

"What! Felix!" She leaned over to pick Demon up from the chair and into her lap. "Your dad's a meanie, Demon. You know that, right?" The cat mewed, swishing its tail before settling down into a comfortable perch.

And Felix couldn't help but laugh at that. He'd been in a mood all week, but Annette always managed to make it a little better.

He made the fifth fold in the pastry, plastic wrapped it and put it in the fridge to rest. After dusting off his hands, he finally checked his phone. The messages were a string of photos of Sylvain and Daisy, the last of which involved Daisy in a tiny cowboy hat sitting on top of Sylvain's head. Attached was a message - _Yeehaw_.

Shaking his head, Felix held the phone out to Annette so she could take a look. Almost instantly, she dissolved into a fit of giggles that made Demon jump off her lap with a yowl. "Has he been texting you all morning?" Annette asked, once she finished laughing.

"Eh." Felix shrugged. It wasn't that different from the previous week, except for the fact that Sylvain has sent Felix a shirtless selfie the other day. Felix had responded _daisy really let herself go_ and ignored the ache of hope twisting in his chest. Expecting anything was exactly how Felix always ended up disappointed. So, this time, he refused to expect anything.

"You're not secretly dating him and just not telling me, right?"

Felix gave her a flat look. "You think I'd date this?" He held up the yeehaw picture once more.

"Right, right, it's not like he's handsome in that greek god meets charming farm boy sort of way. Not at all."

"Farm boy?"

"Freckles, red hair - and no, do not even start with me Felix, I know exactly what you're going to say and if you say it, I'm going to come over and stomp on your foot."

Felix raised his eyebrows, smirked, but did stop short of pointing out that Annette was also a freckled redhead. Instead, he took another bite of apple and admitted, "I did sleep with him."

Annette's eyes went wide, her jaw dropping slightly. "Wait, what? Felix Hugo Fraldarius you did not."

Felix continued eating his apple while Annette's face twisted into all sorts of comically adorable expressions.

"You did? Really?! Felix!" She waved her arms around, as if somehow she could grab hold of something coherent in the air.

Taking pity on her, Felix cut in, "It's not serious. Just blowing off steam."

Annette gaped, shook her head as her expression resolved itself into skepticism, eyes flickering to the phone on the counter. "Felix, he's been texting you all morning." She crossed her arms and met Felix's eyes, as if certain that someone could be stupid enough to want something more from Felix. Part of Felix even wanted to believe she could be right, part of him wanted to believe that there was something about himself worth wanting. But wanting to believe something didn't make it true.

"Yeah, because he's a bored asshole in need of attention." He looked away from her and to the oven where his ginger-cardamom-rhubarb tarts were baking. Another five minutes and they should be done. Picking up his phone, Felix texted, _daisy's too cute to be riding such a dumb horse_.

Annette groaned, loud and exaggerated. "Okay, but you've been texting him back. You didn't bother texting back the last guy who was interested in you."

That was because the last guy had looked at Felix with the sort of hungry eyes that said he wanted to possess him like one would possess a dangerous animal. He hadn't told Annette about that, nor was he planning to. "I'm bored, too."

"Fe." He could hear her pouting. "Come on, you don't need to pretend that you're a heartless hardass."

"I am a heartless hardass." After tossing the apple core into the trash, Felix reached into his cabinet and began pulling out spices, dried fruit and nuts for his mincemeat. "And, even if I was interested," he said, setting cloves down onto the countertop, "It wouldn't matter." His phone buzzed again.

"You're always so pessimistic. It could matter. You could be happy. You could let yourself be happy for once."

If this were anyone but Annette, Felix would have snapped already. Instead, he turned around and gave her a warning look. "I _am_ happy," he lied. "And if you don't drop it, I'm definitely not giving you a rhubarb tart." Picking up his phone, Felix read, _Daisy thinks I'm a very handsome horse_.

Annette made a distressed sound, but didn't say anything more. So, Felix finished laying out his ingredients before texting, _daisy has no one to compare to._ Then the oven timer rang. Felix pulled the tarts from the oven and onto a cooling rack.

"Tarts!" Annette jumped off the table with a thud, followed by a few more thuds and a yowl. "Oops! Oops! Sorry!"

Felix looked over to see fruit rolling its way across the floor, his chair knocked over and Demon trying to escape from a sweater that had been flung onto him.

Snickering, Felix went over and rescued his sweater and fruit from flailing paws. Demon hissed, looking up at Felix with a demanding expression, so Felix bent down and scratched his head before righting the chair and dropping his stuff on it. He could clean it up later. "Don't know how you always manage to--"

Annette smacked Felix's arm. "Oh no, don't you start with me you big meanie. I'm going to eat two of your tarts just for that." She went over to the cooling rack to take a sniff. "Soooo good. Felix, if you don't win Star Baker this week, I'm going to throttle someone." Before Felix could respond, his phone vibrated. Annette peaked over, because she had absolutely no respect for privacy, and gasped.

"What?" Felix asked, nose wrinkling. "If he sent me a picture of his dick, kindly tell him to fuck off."

Annette shook her head, so Felix went over to see what she was making a fuss about.

_True, she hasn't seen you yet_

_Maybe you should come over and meet her_

_You have my address_

Ah. Well. Really? That was all Annette wanted to get worked up over? "He just wants a booty call." Felix rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the bit of him that wanted this to be something else. "And shoo, those tarts are still hot."

Annette frowned, obviously unconvinced. "Okay, but are you taking that booty call?"

"...Maybe," Felix said, by which he meant probably because despite liking to pretend he had sense and impulse control, Felix in fact, had neither.

* * *

Felix couldn't quite believe he was doing this. Oh sure, he'd spent an unholy amount of time with Sylvain in the past few weeks, but it had all been spontaneous and unplanned. This was different - this was Felix telling Sylvain the time he got off work and then driving half way across town, back still sore, sirens still echoing in the back of his head, all for something that was most likely nothing more than a booty call.

Shaking off the voice of doubt, Felix rang Sylvain's doorbell and stepped back. It took a moment before Sylvain answered, and when he did there was a phone glued to his ear and a wince on his face. He mouthed something like _sorry_ but stepped aside to let Felix in all the same.

Once inside, Sylvain frantically gestured to the couch, a chair, the kitchen, and a large cage with what was assumably Daisy inside. He looked at Felix as if he expected Felix to understand what the hell he was getting at, but all Felix could do was blink. "Yeah, got it, yeah, I'm writing that down right now," Sylvain said, not writing anything. And then, pointing to the patio door while cringing, Sylvain slipped out of the room. Felix was left blinking in the middle of it all, trying to process what exactly had just happened.

He inhaled, fighting back a sting of unidentifiable hurt and anger. It was irrational, he knew. A lingering bit of oversensitivity that Felix thought he had quashed years ago.

Another breath and Felix let himself take in his surroundings. The place was as undecorated as his own, but rather than barren, it was minimalist. Stylish. The couch was a sleek white leather thing, the coffee table was dark wood matching the hardwood floors. On the wall hung characterless, black and white cityscapes. It was cold in a way that was hard to reconcile with Sylvain. But, then, what did Felix know of Sylvain?

Before Felix could dwell on that particular train of thought, he heard chittering. Felix blinked and looked to see Daisy standing up, paws curled around the net of her cage. She made another chittering noise, and Felix walked over. "Hey there," he said. She looked up at him sniffing. Oh wow, she was a lot cuter in person, her pointy nose and whiskers twitching. Felix held out a finger for her to sniff.

When she sniffed, Felix couldn't stop himself from grinning. "How're you doing, lovely?" She chittered some more in response. It was unfortunate that her cage was closed. Felix would have reached in and pet her if he could. But he settled for crouching down and watching as she flitted around the cage, her long body elegantly twisting its way through levels of floors and hanging hammocks.

The patio door opened eventually, but Felix didn't bother turning. He was still irritated with Sylvain and Daisy was, in fact, much more charming.

"Sorry about that. I tried to tell him I was busy, but..." Sylvain sighed. "Anyway, want a drink or something? I have water, wine, coffee, tea... er... _more_ wine."

Felix stood and turned. Sylvain was rubbing the back of his neck, a slight frown curled on his lips. His hair was tousled and there were bags under his eyes. Instead of the classy button ups and crisp slacks he normally wore, Sylvain was dressed in a pair of flannel pyjama trousers and a faded Fall Out Boy t-shirt. It was almost unnerving seeing him standing so rumpled in his too clean, too stylish living room. "What the void does he even want?" Felix asked before he could think better of it.

Felix couldn't quite read the expression that passed over Sylvain's face - it was almost like confusion. Then, shaking his head, Sylvain asked, "You really want to know? It's a bunch of stupid, rich people bullshit."

Felix hesitated. Did he actually give a shit? Did he want to start giving a shit about a relationship with an expiration date? Did he even have the ability to not give a shit anymore? "I know a few things about rich people bullshit." Felix sighed.

Sylvain raised his eyebrows but was smart enough not to ask what Felix was doing living in the butt end of town. "Well, okay." He looked over Felix's shoulder at Daisy. "My client's suing my dad, and daddy dearest still thinks I'm taking over the company after this all blows over."

Brows furrowing, Felix asked, "And you haven't told him you aren't?"

Sylvain snorted. "My dad isn't a man one can just say no to. I mean, my brother did but Goddess knows what happened to him."

"I didn't know you had a brother." Felix blinked. It was a stupid thing to say because Felix didn't know a lot about Sylvain. But, it was impossible to hear 'brother' and not think 'Glenn.'

"On paper, I don't." Sylvain shook his head. "But that's an even longer story that's as boring as it is sad. Though, really that's my entire life if you think about." He laughed, brief and bitter before shaking his head. "Ugh, okay, never mind. I'm being stupid. Did you want a drink?"

Felix had seen this flash of vulnerability in Sylvain before, and seen it instantly covered up by a smile. But this time there was a tremble in Sylvain's hands and his chest rose and fell too quickly.

It was a familiar thing. Felix could easily recall having been on that same ledge before - an argument with his father, standing at the edge of the hole they were lowering Glenn into. With Dimitri, as his once lover looked past him, face a mask hiding something so dark Felix couldn't quite look at it straight. In his room, alone, when no would tell him what the words 'terminal cancer' meant and what that had to do with his mom.

He understood what it was like to try and bury so much that it all came crashing down and covered everyone around with suffocating debris. But he didn't understand what to do when the warning signs blazed themselves in front of him. Felix wasn't equipped for handling his own emotions, let alone those of others. He didn't know if he even wanted to try.

"Water," he said, mouth dry.

When he and Sylvain ended up making out on the couch later, Felix couldn't help but wonder if he was just a coward.

* * *

Felix drove himself to the baking show this week. Sylvain had apologized profusely the evening they were supposed to leave - his asshole of a dad, apparently, was insisting on meeting, and he wouldn't be able to make it out until the morning. As that would mean leaving at four am, Felix had agreed carpooling didn't make sense. He ignored the sting of rejection - because it wasn't even rejection - and ignored the gnawing concern rising along with it. Sylvain was fine and even if he wasn't, it wasn't Felix's goddess damned business.

Later, when everyone was chattering and checking in, on the morning of the competition, there was no Sylvain. Felix tried not to keep staring at the door of the registry hall, tried to keep keep up with Ashe's story about his quest to convince a student to take a break, tried to ignore the sinking feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. But, he failed.

A small frown curled on Mercedes' lips. And after the fourth or so time Felix looked over to the door, she looped her arm through his and pulled him with her. "Let's get water," Mercedes said. Felix tried to protest, but the look Mercedes shot him reminded him very much of how Annette looked when she was in no mood to argue. So Felix let himself be dragged along, took a paper cup from the table to water and danishes and opened his mouth to tell Mercedes that, really, he okay, but she cut him off.

"I won't tell you to try not to worry, we all worry for our friends, but try and not let that get you too worked up." She placed a hand on his arm and squeezed.

Felix's gaze flickered down and he sighed. She was right. He had his bakes today, and they were good bakes. Annette would murder him if he came back and told her, _I was so worried about my booty call that I bombed the competition_. Or maybe not, but Felix would certainly feel like a clown. "I'm being a fool," he confessed.

Mercedes shook her head. "No you're not. It's never foolish to care. I care about him, too." That she didn't feel the need to specify who they were both cared about made Felix wince, but Mercedes thankfully didn't comment on that. "And I care about you." She squeezed his arm again. "So, if you need, we can stay here for a bit."

"I'm fine," Felix said, but he did finish his water first before heading back with Mercedes.

Right around the time the producers were getting ready to call Sylvain and ask what was going on, he burst in. "Sorry, sorry," he said, forehead damp with sweat and shirt rumpled as if he'd just thrown it on. "Traffic was a pain in the ass today."

Felix did not exhale a sigh of relief. He did not let his gaze linger too long on Sylvain as Sylvain slumped against the wall, breathed out and stared up at the ceiling.

* * *

The Signature went well for Felix. The same couldn't be said for Ashe. Felix had tried not to wince as the judges pointed out that Ashe's rough puff pastry hadn't puffed, but rather became an oily, too hard mess and that his blueberry-peach tart lacked flavor. At least his chicken-curry tart had packed a nice punch, but it was easy to tell that Ashe was in trouble.

As everyone exited the tent, Mercedes, Dedue and Felix caught up with Ashe. Instantly, Mercedes hugged Ashe around the shoulders. She hummed gently as he looked up at her with watery eyes. "I'm fine," Ashe said. "It was just one bad round."

Dedue nodded. "Yes. Do not let that deter you," he said, placing a hand on Ashe's shoulder.

"Guys," Ashe whined. "Come on, you don't need to fuss."

"But what if we wish to fuss?" Dedue asked, the slightest bit of tease twinkling in his eyes.

Ashe's cheeks colored a faint pink as he lightly elbowed Dedue. "Well, uh...I guess you can fuss. If you want, that is."

Mercedes placed a hand over her mouth, obviously fighting back a giggle. Felix rolled his eyes, fondness creeping in. He reached out to ruffle Ashe's hair, managing to flick some grey strands out of place before Ashe batted his hand away. Chuckling, Felix stepped back.

"Et tu, Felix? Then fall, Ashe!" Ashe placed his hand on his chest, and with mock drama fell back into Dedue who caught him with ease and a faint blush of his own.

"Alas," Felix said, deadpan.

* * *

Thankfully, the Technical did not go poorly for Ashe - he placed third, while Sylvain, despite his clear exhaustion, placed second. Felix landed first place, which considering the challenge had been fruitcake, surprised even him. With Dedue and Dorothea, who had both done excellently in the Signature, taking the bottom spots in the Technical, tomorrow almost anyone could go home. There were still seven of them left, but somehow that felt much smaller than the original ten.

* * *

For the second time in this competition, Felix was decorating a biscuit swan with royal icing. He was also decorating a peacock, dove, robin and a whole flock of fantastical birds. The Showstopper was to be a spiced biscuit chandelier, where style counted as much as substance. It was a relief that his icing was not turning into a sticky, too drippy mess this time - he'd been careful to check the consistency in a small batch, drizzling strands of icing across parchment to make sure that it would be just liquid enough to spread.

For extra flair, Felix had brought a set of small paint brushes with him. As the icing on the swan dried, he brushed light, quick strokes to give the illusion of feathers. For his peacock, he'd painted on the rainbow of its tail. The white dove was made of star anise and almond biscuit-dough - Felix only added small flourishes of gray icing to give its feathers depth, and the ginger-cinnamon-cardamom robin only had its red belly painted. With his apron stained by multicolored drops of icing, and brushes fanned together alongside a cup full of muddied water, Felix felt a bit like a kindergartener creating his grand masterpiece, or perhaps a mad scientist on the verge of giving life to a monster that would ravage the earth.

Swan finished, he straightened and stretched his arms up, inhaling deep as he did so. Out of all the weeks he'd been here, spice week was the best smelling. From Dedue's table, there was the scent of cloves, cardamon, jasmine and rosewater as he assembled a chandelier that could be a garden of floating flowers. Mercedes' corner of the room smelled of nutmeg, cinnamon and allspice, as she drew smiling faces and rosy cheeks on woodland creatures. Sylvain had apparently opted for rosemary, lemon and sage to build his chandelier of stars and mythical creatures.

He looked better today, with his clothes again neatly put together and the bags under his eyes no longer prominent. But he was quieter than Felix had seen him yet. He hadn't joined the rest of them for game night. Sleep had been his excuse, and no one opted to pry. Though, Dorothea had pulled Sylvain into a quick hug before he left, promising that if there was someone he needed her to give a talking to, she would verbally eviscerate them. Physically, too, if he would pay for her manicure afterwards.

Sylvain had laughed then, and even now, with his armor obviously cracked, he moved quick and calm across his station, piping icing and hanging biscuits with easy precision. It was impossible not to wonder if there was anything that could truly shake Sylvain. It was also impossible not to think back to Sylvain's living room and Sylvain's trembling hands. Fighting back the sudden clench in his chest, Felix looked over to Ashe.

From his table, orange and cinnamon wafted along with nutmeg. But, Felix couldn't quite make out the shapes of the biscuits. Some hung on the chandelier, but many had fallen off, laying on the table in a crumbled mess. Ashe stood among the wreckage, eyes red and watery. Oh. Shit.

Catherine called the thirty minute mark. Looking between his own pile of painted biscuits - mostly done, ready to be hung - and Ashe, Felix took a breath and stepped across the aisle. "Hey," he said. Ashe turned his head. "You need..." Felix trailed off, gesturing vaguely to both Ashe and his chandelier. He wasn't sure what would be best to offer.

Mercedes turned around from hanging up a squirrel. "Oh, dear," she said, coming over. "Do you have any royal icing left?"

Ashe nodded. Without much talking between them, Ashe began gluing the biscuits together, and then, after passing the biscuit to Felix to hold, Mercedes helped him use the icing the glue the biscuit back up onto the chandelier. It was an inelegant solution - sloppy in its execution, but it wasn't a pile of broken biscuits. That was something.

When Shamir called twenty minutes, Ashe looked to his friends. "Guys, I'm okay." His eyes were still damp with tears, his nose still leaked snot. But he had a determined tilt to his chin. "You should get back to your tables." Felix opened his mouth to protest - but Mercedes put a hand on his shoulder. So, Felix went back to hang his birds.

* * *

While the judges deliberated, Felix, Mercedes, Dedue and Ashe sat outside on the grass. Ashe had his head pillowed on Dedue's chest and Mercedes's arm was looped around them both. While Felix was normally anything but comfortable with others touching him, he let Mercedes rest her legs on top of his as he lay back and stared at the clouded sky. Winter was beginning.

"I'm probably going home," Ashe sighed, wry smile on his lips. Mercedes lifted her head and Dedue opened his mouth, but Ashe held up his hand. "And guys, I'm fine with it. It's been a good time, and I'm really grateful to have met all of you. Honestly, I kind of wish I could stick around just to keep watching you guys." He shifted slightly, so his head rested against Dedue's shoulder, "But, speaking of hanging out... I still only have Dedue's number."

"Oh!" Mercedes clamped a hand over her mouth. "Oh, that is a good point." She reached into the pocket of her long skirt and fished out a phone. It had cute flower charm dangling off of it. "We should all exchange numbers."

A flutter of warmth rose up in Felix's chest. He tried to shove it down - even if they did exchange numbers, they all could live painfully far away, and even if they didn't, they could all still never see each other again. And yet, there was a bright light in Ashe's eyes and a joyful grin across Mercedes face as she plugged in his number, so Felix couldn't help but think _maybe_. Pulling his own phone out, he looked to Dedue.

* * *

Ashe did end up going home, and Felix won Star Baker. In the fuss over Ashe, he'd forgotten that was even something he cared about. He stood, blinking, before Ashe pulled him into a hug and told him, "Congratulations!" with uninhibited enthusiasm. Then there were so many arms around Felix that he was torn between laughter and fighting everyone off just so he could breathe.

"It's not that big a deal," Felix said, not meaning it at all.

Later, after they all went to their now regular goodbye bar, after they finished celebrating Felix and making Ashe turn red by telling him all the ways he was a delight, Felix found himself once more wrapped up in a hug. This time, it was in the bar's parking lot, with the first snow of the year drifting down onto his head.

Ashe gave Felix a kiss on the cheek, then. He'd given one to Dedue first, but blushing, instantly gave one to Mercedes and then Felix. Mercedes and Felix exchanged looks that said _Ashe isn't subtle, but neither is the blush on Dedue's face_. And maybe that was a bit hypocritical coming from Felix, but he didn't wish to examine it.

As the group pulled apart and waved their good-byes, Felix caught a familiar head of red hair passing by.

There was a slump to Sylvain's shoulders, a lack of focus to his gaze. He'd toasted Felix along with the rest of them, but had spent most of the night talking quietly with Dorothea near the fire. There'd been moments when Felix had wanted to come over, but he hadn't quite been able to make himself do so. Then again, he and Sylvain hadn't spoken much this weekend.

But alone, with the cold seeping into his bones, Felix found himself striding across the parking lot. "Hey!" he called out, heart beating too fast to be explained by the speed of his walking.

Sylvain stopped, stood still, then turned. "Hey there, gorgeous. Thought you'd left already," he said, voice wavering with something almost like awe.

Ignoring the heat rushing to his cheeks, Felix said, "Hey, asshole." The fact that he hadn't really thought through why he wanted to call out to Sylvain caught up with him there. _Just wanted to say goodbye_ felt both incomplete and mildly pathetic. Felix wasn't some besotted fool.

"I call him gorgeous and he calls me asshole." Sylvain shook his head, chuckling.

Felix quirked a brow and crossed his arms. "You have a problem with that?"

"If it's coming from you, _gorgeous_ ," Sylvain's voice curled around the epithet, "then I don't mind at all." Felix reached out to shove Sylvain, but Sylvain caught his hand and brought it to his lips. He brushed a light kiss along the leather of Felix's glove. Then, he didn't let go.

"Tch," Felix huffed. "Here I was, concerned about you."

Sylvain blinked, long lashes fluttering against rosey cheeks. "Were you now?" There was that tiny waver in his voice again. Felix really didn't know what to do with that. Part of him wanted to brush it off, say that he shouldn't have been and walk away. There was nothing he could gain from caring, that part screamed. And yet, Felix couldn't help but think of the promises exchanged today, of that tiny, little _maybe_ trying to worm its way in.

"Maybe," Felix admitted.

And there was something of that _maybe_ in the smile Sylvain returned.


	5. Week 5 - Chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"You seem like you're in a good mood today," Catherine said, leaning against Felix's workstation as he coarsely chopped hazelnuts for this morning's Signature Challenge - chocolate biscuit bars._
> 
> _Sliding his knife under the nuts, Felix scooped them up and moved them onto a plate. He'd be rolling the final dark chocolate coated bars in there, once he got around to assembly. "Maybe I'm feeling confident," Felix said. It wasn't a lie, he was feeling confident. His cardamom-coffee-hazelnut-chocolate bars had been exactly the right combination of crunchy and flavorful when he'd tested them out. There was no reason that shouldn't be true today. Though that perhaps had less to do with Felix's good mood than the fact that he'd had the best sleep he'd ever managed in a hotel room last night. But Catherine didn't need to know that.  
> _

It was a Wednesday night, and Felix sat on his couch, leaning against Sylvain, fuzzy blanket covering both their laps as Demon sprawled between them in that weird liquid cat like way that must have only made sense to him. The Princess Bride was playing on the screen of the small, old TV that Felix had bought at a garage sale not long after he'd moved out of his and Dimitri's apartment. It was a surreal experience - not because of the movie or the couch - Felix and Annette made a tradition of watching the Princess Bride after particularly rough weeks, weeks where too many people died when it seemed like they could have been saved. But it was strange that the person joining Felix most definitely was not Annette. At work, when Felix mentioned he'd been the one to invite said person, Annette's arms went flailing, nearly knocking over a defibrillator on the way.

"You have a date!" She'd squealed, voice high enough to break glass.

But, it wasn't a date. Nor was it _not_ a date. Felix wasn't exactly sure what it was, other than vaguely comfortable. Sylvain was like a radiator, and Felix, who wore sweaters nearly year round, found it easy to just soak that warmth in. That Sylvain would sometimes quote along with Westley was stupidly, unfairly charming. Felix took to echoing some of Buttercup's more acerbic lines, if only for some parity between them. He also took some of Inigo Montoya's lines, because Inigo Montoya had been Felix's Halloween costume for almost all of elementary school. The year he'd went as Princess Buttercup was never to be spoken of again.

When the movie came to a close, Felix shifted and stretched. It moved the blanket under Demon. The cat rolled over, twisted and then jumped off the couch with a yowl. He sashayed away, tail swishing. Snickering, Sylvain said, "They say pets are like their owners, but--"

"Don't you dare finished that," Felix cut him off with no real bite. Demon wasn't even the first cat Felix had been compared to, many people had made similar comments, but none were as bad as the asshole who'd asked Felix if he'd named himself after a cartoon character. That fool ended up with a black eye and blue balls.

Sylvain held up his hands in mock surrender. "It's not an insult. Demon's adorable."

"You're," Felix began to say, almost tripped up by saying _adorable,_ and finished off with, "an idiot," to maintain dignity. Somehow that made Sylvain grin even wider. Did the man intentionally rile Felix up? Actually, that seemed probable. Asshole.

Rolling his eyes, Felix stood from the couch. "I'm getting hot chocolate. You want any?"

"Hot chocolate? I got the impression you weren't all that into sweets."

"I'm not. I have cocoa powder, not the fake crap." Felix also added a bit of chili powder and cinnamon to his hot chocolate, because he preferred everything with a kick.

"Well I can't say no to that." Sylvain stood to follow Felix into the kitchen.

As Felix retrieved the cocoa powder and spices from the cabinet, Sylvain hovered close, fingers dancing their way across Felix's back. It sent a shiver down Felix, heat pooling in his gut, but he didn't shove Sylvain away. He only reached around the man when he went to pull milk from the fridge. He didn't comment on the curl of Sylvain's fingers in his hair as he turned the electric kettle on to heat up water. As the water boiled, Felix measured out his mix, turning his head over his shoulder to ask how much sugar Sylvain wanted.

Sylvain leaned in, pressing a kiss to the side of Felix's mouth, and then, just as Felix turned to catch Sylvain's lips at a better angle, 'Barbie Girl' rang - a funeral bell.

"Shit," Sylvain jerked away. He pulled his phone out. Felix stood still, blinking, as Sylvain looked down at his phone like he was walking to the guillotine. He inhaled, and swiped the green answer icon popping up on the screen.

Oh for fuck's sake. It was long past the time any reasonable human had working hours. If Sylvain wasn't done with his father badgering him, Felix most certainly was. He reached out and grabbed the phone away. "He's busy," Felix said, curt, then hung up.

Turning back to Sylvain, he held out the phone, daring Sylvain to protest. Looking like a very angry trout, Sylvain gaped at Felix. He didn't even reach out to take back his phone. So, Felix set it down on the counter. "Why do you keep answering him?" Felix demanded, because someone had to say something.

That seemed to shake Sylvain out of his stooper. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "What else am I supposed to do?"

"Tell him to go fuck himself."

Snorting, Sylvain shook his head. "Yeah, not really a good idea there, buddy." He picked up his phone and turned it in his hand. "You'd think being a lawyer would make it easy, but nope. Nothing's ever easy," Sylvain said, voice quiet enough that Felix wondered if he was talking to himself.

"Are you going to call him back?"

Cringing, Sylvain looked between his phone and Felix and the back to his phone. Finger hovering over the screen, Sylvain made a few swipes. But just as Felix began to fear that Sylvain would call back his dad, Sylvain stopped, looked up at Felix and pocketed the phone. "Guess he'll have to call me back if he actually needs to talk." There was a faint uncertainty in his voice.

On impulse, Felix tiptoed up and pressed a kiss to Sylvain's cheek. "Good."

"Good, huh?" Sylvain chuckled, an inscrutable look in his eyes.

* * *

It was just supposed to have been a quick dinner at Felix's before they left for the Baking Show, except, it had devolved into Felix straddling Sylvain's lap on the couch as he tried to find yet undiscovered places to kiss along Sylvain's jaw. They didn't really have time for this - it was already well past seven pm. If they wanted to get enough sleep tonight, they needed to have headed out over twenty minutes ago. And yet, after Felix finished drying the last of the dishes Sylvain had washed, there'd been a strange smirk on Sylvain's lips.

"What?" Felix asked as he turned away to put the plate into a cabinet.

"I've told you that you're gorgeous before, right?" Sylvain said, slipping his arms around Felix's waist.

"Only a few thousand times." Felix rolled his eyes. "You're insatiable." But he turned to kiss Sylvain and it was all over from there.

They'd both lost a few layers on the way to the couch. But as Felix found himself running out of jaw to kiss, he pulled back. It wasn't sense so much as the memory that Sylvain's neck was a no-go zone. He hadn't explained to Felix why, just redirected Felix that first night they slept together. Felix hadn't asked since then. If there was a story to it, it was up to Sylvain to decide whether or not he wished to share.

As Felix caught his breath, he said, "We don't have time for this." Any reluctance that bled through in his voice was covered by breathiness.

Sylvain paused for a moment, then let out an incredulous laugh. "You point that out now?" He shifted and Felix could feel Sylvain hard beneath him.

Felix shrugged, but failed to dislodge himself.

Laughing again, Sylvain shook his head. He looked over Felix's shoulder, probably to where the time on the DVD player read _you should get going_. Inhaling, he paused. A breath later, obvious mischief sparked in his eyes. "Hey, do you have plans tonight?"

It was Felix's turn to look disbelieving. "You mean other than sleeping before the competition we're _both_ in tomorrow?"

"Eh..." Sylvain shrugged, sheepish. "I just thought I'd check. Because, you know, if you don't have plans you should come by my room. Stay the night."

Oh. "Are you an idiot?"

Sylvain shrugged again. "I think I've been called that once or twice. But look, I'm not saying we have to fuck if you come over. We could just sleep."

Felix didn't think he needed to point out that Sylvain's dick was still poking against his ass. He crossed his arms, but Sylvain looked up at him with more earnestness than he should have been able to manage. Grumbling, Felix said, "I'll think about it."

Sylvain beamed.

* * *

It really didn't take much thinking - when they arrived at the hotel, Sylvain looked at Felix with warm brown eyes and an inviting tilt to his head that was near impossible to say no to. They both still checked into the rooms that Fodlan's Fantastic had provided them, for ease, and because Felix didn't want to give Sylvain the impression that he would also be staying in Sylvain's room Saturday night. He might, but there was a big difference between a possibility and a promise.

As they settled into bed, Sylvain checked his phone and with a furrow of his brow and then set it aside onto the nightstand. There'd been no calls this evening, as far as Felix was aware, which should have been a good thing. Yet there was a hunch to Sylvain's shoulders. "The asshole up to something?" Felix asked.

"Huh? Oh, nah. Even the devil has to take a vacation sometimes, I guess." Sylvain didn't sound particularly convincing, but before Felix could even consider pressing, Sylvain fell back against him, head landing on Felix's lap. Even in the dim light of the hotel room, Felix could see the splatter of freckles across Sylvain's nose and the dark bags under his eyes. It was tempting to trace over both.

Turning his gaze to the ceiling, Felix asked, "Are you planning to sleep like that?"

"Why not? Your lap makes a good pillow." He shifted, so his legs no longer dangled off the side of the bed. Head still resting on Felix's thigh, Sylvain curled onto his side. Felix allowed himself a brief indulgence - he stroked a hand through Sylvain's curls, let himself enjoy the softness of it, let himself imagine what it might be like to just spend the night like this. But, it was already long past when they should have been asleep.

"I might kick you," Felix said, as if that were the biggest concern.

"What if I want you to kick me?" Sylvain said in the universal voice of the intentionally obtuse. So Felix did kick him, lightly, just enough to dislodge Sylvain's head from his lap.

Sitting up with a pout, Sylvain said, "Hey."

"You asked for it," Felix pointed out, unsympathetic.

Sylvain pouted for a moment longer, before dropping the act with a chuckle. He then properly settled under the covers.

Shutting off the lights, Felix joined him. That should have been that. But Sylvain started scooching and Felix didn't scooch away. Sylvain tucked his head under Felix's chin and wrapped his arms around Felix's waist, like he was trying to bury himself in Felix to hide away from whatever haunted him enough to give him those dark bags. It was all too easy for Felix to return the gesture and pull Sylvain close.

* * *

"You seem like you're in a good mood today," Catherine said, leaning against Felix's workstation as he coarsely chopped hazelnuts for this morning's Signature Challenge - chocolate biscuit bars.

Sliding his knife under the nuts, Felix scooped them up and moved them onto a plate. He'd be rolling the final dark chocolate coated bars in there, once he got around to assembly. "Maybe I'm feeling confident," Felix said. It wasn't a lie, he was feeling confident. His cardamom-coffee-hazelnut-chocolate bars had been exactly the right combination of crunchy and flavorful when he'd tested them out. There was no reason that shouldn't be true today. Though that perhaps had less to do with Felix's good mood than the fact that he'd had the best sleep he'd ever managed in a hotel room last night. But Catherine didn't need to know that.

"My, my has last week's win made you a bit cocky?" There was what Felix had learned to recognize as a playful tease in Catherine's voice.

Setting his block of dark chocolate on the cutting board, Felix began chopping it so that it would melt evenly when tempered. "If you want cocky, you should look over there," he tilted his chin towards Sylvain. As if on queue, Sylvain turned and blew a kiss. Felix snorted. "See, cocky." He ignored the now too familiar warmth bubbling up.

Catherine's eyes flickered between the two of them. She tilted her head at Felix in a way that said _we're on camera so I'm not saying shit, but I see you_. Felix shrugged in a way that said _what of it?_ Laughing, Catherine patted him on the shoulder. "Good luck, kid."

Then she went off to check in on Mercedes, passing by Ashe's now empty station along the way. Despite his good mood, Felix couldn't help but feel a pang. He allowed his gaze to linger there for just a moment, trying to not think too hard about empty spaces, and then turned back to his chocolate.

* * *

After the Signature, as everyone exited the tent, Sylvain draped an arm over Felix's shoulder with all the ease and casualness of an old friend. "Congratulations on the handshake."

Felix, surprising himself, didn't immediately shove Sylvain off. He looked up at the bright smile and said, "Told Catherine that I wasn't being cocky," as if hadn't flushed at Hanneman's praise. First Star Baker, now this season's first handshake? Felix would really have to be careful to not get cocky.

"Ha! Well, if I were placing bets on a winner, it'd be on you."

Felix elbowed him. "Don't be a suck up."

"Hey!" Sylvain pouted. "I'm not sucking up, though if you want me to suck--" he was cut off by Felix elbowing him again. "Okay, okay, fine. But I'm serious, my bets are on you or Dedue."

At that Dedue turned around, blinking. Mercedes, who'd been chatting with him, also turned. "Are we placing bets now?" She asked. "It seems like one should place themselves in the running, no?"

Sylvain swiped his free hand through the air. "I don't want Catherine going around calling me cocky," he said. "And anyway, if I can't win this competition, I'd like to at least win my bet."

Tapping her chin, Mercedes hummed. "Hm, then I'll place my bet on you, since someone should bet on you and on myself, because I plan to win." She smiled that tiny, devious smile.

"It seems premature to place bets," Dedue said. But as Mercedes opened her mouth, Dedue continued, "But I do believe Sylvain's chances are not poor. My own seem fair as well." There might have been a slight smirk curling on his lips, or it could have just been the early afternoon light playing tricks on Felix.

"Wow, you guys are going to be really disappointed when I go home." Sylvain winked.

With a roll of his eyes, Felix said, "You've never even come close to going home."

"Weird, right?" Sylvain laughed. "But, you haven't placed your bets."

Rather than pointing out the obvious fact that Sylvain was perhaps the most consistent baker in the group, Felix said, "I won't make bets, I'll just win." Everyone laughed at that.

When they sat down to rest, Felix still didn't shrug off Sylvain's arm. Nor did he stop Sylvain from playing with the tip of his ponytail or pecking his cheek before they headed out for the Technical. A few people did give them raised brows, but having once been engaged a politician's son, Felix was immune to public scrutiny.

* * *

There wasn't much Felix considered himself good at - his job, baking and fighting would generally be his answers if someone asked - but there was one thing that he was particularly good at and that was eventually ruining whatever bits of happiness he managed to grab hold of.

So, here he stood, fists clenched, eyes narrowed as he glared up at Sylvain. "Fuck you," Felix said, regretting it even before the words came out of his mouth and yet unable to stop. But, wasn't that always the case for him?

It had begun like this - they'd all been playing Exploding Kittens, Sylvain and Mercedes had gotten out early on and thus, Mercedes sat perched behind Dorothea, peeking at her cards and occasionally making random "hm" noises. Sylvain was lounging on the couch behind Felix's seat on the floor, and every once in a while, he would reach out the flick fingers along the line of Felix's neck, through Felix's hair, over his shoulders. It should have been far more irritating than it was, but Felix was getting used to how tactile Sylvain could be.

Then, in the all too comfortable space, 'Bohemian Rhapsody' started playing, followed by a stutter in the fingers currently trailing along Felix's shoulders and a quiet, "Shit."

Sylvain nearly fell off the couch in a scramble, as he both answered his phone and stood to stride into the lobby hallway. "Please tell me this is good news," He said, voice fading as he walked further and further away. But at least he seemed to have the sense not to go outside into the snow without his jacket.

After an exchange of concerned glances, the game continued. It hadn't been Sylvain's father who'd called, so Felix hadn't wanted to feel concerned. And yet the concern gnawed at him. It turned biting when Sylvain didn't return after half an hour, and began to be near painful when he still hadn't come back an hour later.

So Felix made the mistake of thinking that he perhaps should go check on Sylvain.

He ended up knocking on the door of Sylvain's hotel room. When Sylvain answered, there was a tightness to his mouth, a paleness to his complexion, a hard set to his shoulder. He looked like glass about to shatter - crackling fissures still held together, but only for an instant. "Oh, hey gorgeous," he said with a fractured grin. That, more than anything else, had blood pounding in Felix's ears.

"What the fuck happened?" Felix demanded.

Crack. Sylvain flinched and then that horrible grin returned. "Come on, you don't actually want to hear about my bullshit again, do you?" As if Felix hadn't offered again and again to listen, as if Felix hadn't kept asking each time, as if Sylvain was convinced Felix didn't give a shit.

"Then don't tell me," Felix hissed.

Crack. "Aw come on, don't be like that."

"Like what?" Felix's eyes narrowed, he crossed his arms.

Sylvain's laughter was a sharp stab. "Whatch'ya getting pissed at?" He reached out towards Felix, but Felix slapped his hand away. "Look, I'm fine," he said, obviously anything but. "Let's just watch a movie, or maybe have a little fun. It's not too late for that." And that was the knife twisting in. Maybe Felix had been wrong, maybe Sylvain didn't actually want Felix the person, just Felix the distraction.

"Is that what I am to you?" Felix spit out. "Fun?"

Crack. The glass splintered apart then to reveal an even smoother, glassier surface. Empty eyes and an emptier smile. "I didn't say that." It sounded anything but convincing. A platitude.

"Fuck you." Felix turned heel and walked off. His toothbrush and t-shirt were still in Sylvain's room, but he couldn't bring himself to give a shit.

* * *

The Showstopper came and went. Felix ignored the concerned looks Mercedes and Dedue tossed his way, let them do the talking and texted Annette to ask her to pick him up from the Bake Off.

_What happened?_

_don't want to talk bout it_

How would he even explain to Annette? He wanted to simply blame Sylvain for being an asshole, but it wasn't exactly Sylvain's fault that Felix had decided to make more of something than he should have. Nor was it Sylvain's fault that Felix couldn't take that without exploding at him. Besides, if it hadn't been this, then Felix would have found some other way to fuck things up. He always did with the people he cared about.


	6. Week 6 - Pie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Felix hadn't anticipated how much it would sting to see Sylvain again. Nor had he anticipated that Sylvain would smile and greet him like nothing had happened - a simple,"Hey, Felix," as if Sylvain had ever referred to Felix by anything other than overly affectionate nicknames. Even awkward avoidance or outright refusal to speak to Felix would have felt better than this. At least, then, being asshole would have felt justified._
> 
> _Maybe it was for the best - this was being mature about the situation. It wasn't as if Felix wanted cameras catching sight of their dirty laundry. But, as he rolled out the crust for his spiced plum pie, Felix couldn't help glancing up at Sylvain. There was no singing into spoons or flirting with the cherries that Sylvain was putting in his Signature fruit pie. There was just the sort of careful, precise baking that Felix had come to recognize as Sylvain holding himself together during a bad week. While that might have meant that Sylvain was more affected by their fight than it seemed, Felix took no comfort in it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, another unintentional holiday update. Happy New Year!!! This chapter might be a little thematic, in that regard. >_>

"Here take this." Ingrid said, dropping a heavy cardboard box into Felix's arms. They were in her apartment, now stripped bare of all its tennis posters, medals and memorabilia.

Huffing at the sudden weight, Felix headed out the door. The snow that they hadn't shoveled out of the driveway was piled high, to the point where it could reach Felix's knees. Head down, Felix pushed against ice sharp wind on his way to moving van. "Why the fuck are you moving out during Ethereal Moon?" Felix grumbled.

Ingrid walked behind him, two small boxes stacked on each other and a tennis bag slung over her shoulder. Back when they were children, Felix and Ingrid would try finding ways to one up each other, much to Dimitri's chagrin. Seeing Ingrid carrying more than himself made Felix tempted to go back inside and grab another box just to show that he could. "Because my landlord's a piece of shit." Ingrid sighed. "You know that bastard finally fixed the shower _after_ I told him that I was moving out?"

"Asshole." Felix dropped the box inside the van, then strode back, hands stuffed in pockets, head down against the wind, into the relative warmth of Ingrid's apartment. They'd been hauling stuff for the past two hours and it finally looked like they were making some progress. When Ingrid helped Felix move out of his and Dimitri's apartment it had taken maybe an hour as Felix had not wanted to take anything that wasn't strictly his. He'd spent a fortune on furniture afterwards, but, at the time, it felt worth it. Anything to never have to think about the disaster that had been their falling out ever again.

Ingrid came in after Felix, blowing into her hands. She looked around the room and said, "Okay, I think we can take a break now." Closing the front door, she gestured to the kitchen. There she had some styrofoam cups, a thermos full of hot tea and a box of bagels. Free food, she'd promised, though Felix would have come regardless. He also would have dragged Annette, but Annette was ill. Dimitri wasn't there, ostensibly because of campaign work, but also likely because Ingrid had no desire to play mediator.

She handed Felix a cup after Felix walked in. Then, she picked up a bagel to munch on. Felix took to sipping on his tea, trying not to think about much of anything. He had been trying to do so all week, his fight with Sylvain bringing back all the memories of his arguments with Dimitri, his father, Ingrid and every other relationship Felix had fucked up at one point or another. Well, except for Annette, but no one could get angry at Annette.

As Felix finished off his cup of tea, Ingrid asked all too casually, "So, are we going to talk about Dimitri?"

Felix jerked his head in Ingrid's direction. "What about him?"

She was leaned back against the countertop and looking at the large water stain on the ceiling. "The idiot's made a big decision, and I'm proud that he's finally moving on with his life, but he's going to need support."

Of all the times Ingrid could decide a lecture was necessary, it had to be now. Really? Sometimes, Felix hated her. "I'm not responsible for him," he bit out.

Ingrid turned to look at Felix, unfazed. "Did I say that, Felix? What I'm saying is that you two need to stop pretending you've made up and actually talk about your bullshit. It wasn't really me he was afraid of finding out about his campaign."

"I could leave," Felix threatened, but Ingrid just shook her head.

"No, because you owe me." Ah, so that was why she was bringing this up now and not any other time. And then she continued with her speech, ignoring that Felix was close to flinging a bagel at the wall. "Dimitri's planning to visit the cemetery tomorrow - he invited me, but I have a bunch of moving crap I need to handle. I think you should join him."

Felix hadn't been to the cemetery since they'd buried his father. What use was staring at rocks and leaving flowers for people who no longer existed? Moreover, that would be the worst possible place for him to try having a conversation with Dimitri. He still remembered all too clearly the way Dimitri would wake up screaming about the dead, the way he'd ignore Felix when Felix tried to talk to him about. He remembered how Dimitri would sit mumbling on the couch to the ghosts of his parents. The fight that ended their relationship had begun with Dimitri looking up at Felix and seeing Glenn. "No," Felix said.

Folding her arms, Ingrid inhaled. "Coward."

"Excuse me?"

"I called you a coward, Felix. And if you throw that, I am making you eat it off the floor. Look, I'm just getting tired of playing go-between the two of you. And I'm tired of you pretending you don't need to work shit out." She met his eyes. "I won't say anything more, we have too much to move today for me to deal with a tantrum, but think about it Felix."

* * *

The snow on Rodrigue Fraldarius' headstone covered both the epitaph and the years of his life, leaving only a name. There was something comforting about that, no window dressings, just the acknowledgement that once Felix's father had existed. With a sigh, Felix pulled a white rose from his bouquet and lay it down. Dimitri set a white lily next to it.

"You know I..." Dimitri hesitated, briefly glancing at Felix, before finishing, "I miss him."

Stuffing the hand that wasn't holding flowers into his coat pocket, Felix said, "Yeah?" Despite the fact that Felix had rarely been able to make it through dinner without arguing with his father, despite feeling like his father saw him as an inferior version of Glenn, despite _everything_ , Felix also missed the old man. Or perhaps, more accurately, missed knowing his father was still alive. Which Felix suspected was very different from the way Dimitri missed Felix's father. Still, Felix had come here as a truce, so he simply said, "I miss him too."

Nodding, Dimitri reached a hand out and gave Felix's shoulder a quick, light pat. Felix didn't flinch away at the contact, but he did take a step away to lay a flower on Glenn's grave. His family was all buried together here. Only a few steps further lay Dimitri's.

"I also miss you," added Dimitri. At that, Felix's felt his stomach churn and face heat.

Dimitri's eyes widened and he turned as red as Felix. "Oh! No!" Dimitri gasped. "No! Not in that way. Not that... Ugh. Please allow me to rephrase. I miss having you in my life, Felix. You were my dearest friend, before anything else."

"I'm right here, you idiot."

Dimitri gave Felix a pained look that said exactly what Ingrid had been saying before - their truce was superficial at best. Felix didn't know how to change that. It was one thing to say _sorry_ and pretend everything was better. It was a completely different beast to figure out how to make things better. So Felix looked over Dimitri's shoulder and, swallowing the lump growing in his throat, said, "I miss you, too."

Dimitri nodded. "I suppose it was foolish of me to hope that I could fix everything by simply apologizing." There was a resigned slump to his shoulders.

"Maybe," Felix responded. But, even when they were on good terms, that was how all their fights went. Dimitri would do something that upset Felix, Felix would blow up, and Dimitri would apologize, regardless of whether or not Felix had been justified blowing up in the first place. The cycle only ceased when Dimitri was too far gone to even try apologizing. Felix sighed. "And maybe I don't always deserve an apology."

Dimitri's expression grew more pained. He bit down on his lip and turned his head.

"I'm not good at saying sorry," Felix stated the obvious. "Nor am I good at caring for others."

Blinking, Dimitri turned his head. The pained expression left his face to be replaced by something like pity, as if Felix deserved to be pitied for being a cold hearted asshole. But before Felix could snap, Dimitri said, "Felix, I know few people who care as much as you do."

Felix scoffed. Yeah right.

Dimitri shook his head, and with all his painful, annoying sincerity, said, "I would not value your friendship so much if I doubted your compassion."

Compassion? Felix wanted to laugh, bitter and hard. What absolute bullshit. "My so called compassion is what fucking left you alone when I should have been there."

Felix expected Dimitri to flinch away or try and deny it. Instead, the look on his face grew even more frustratingly pitying. "Have you not forgiven yourself for that?"

And that was it. Felix turned heel, and began to storm away. He made about two steps before Dimitri grabbed hold of his arm, firm, but not bruising in the way it might have been in their youth. "Wait!"

Whirling around, Felix yanked himself away. "I don't need you, of all people, to feel sorry for me," Felix hissed.

But again, Dimitri neither flinched nor back down. He straightened his shoulders and took a breath. "I have long since forgiven you. I do not know if you've forgiven me for my faults, but I hope you learn to forgive yourself." Then he stepped back, giving Felix room to walk off again.

Felix stood for a long moment, gazing up at Dimitri. He looked so different these days, both from when he was a too skinny teenager with limbs growing faster than he could keep up with, and from the pale, hollowed eyed husk he'd been in the months after the bombing. There was life in his eye and strength in his shoulders. "You want me to forgive myself?" Felix asked, disbelieving.

"If one cannot forgive himself, then how is he to forgive others?" Dimitri asked with a sigh. It didn't seem like he was just talking about Felix there. Ah.

Not quite how to respond, Felix nodded. He didn't know if he really believed Dimitri. He didn't know if he wanted to forgive himself. But the words had taken the fight out of him, and thus Felix would have to think about it later. With an inhale, Felix started walking and gestured for Dimitri to come with him. "We still have more graves to visit."

* * *

Felix hadn't anticipated how much it would sting to see Sylvain again. Nor had he anticipated that Sylvain would smile and greet him like nothing had happened - a simple,"Hey, Felix," as if Sylvain had ever referred to Felix by anything other than overly affectionate nicknames. Even awkward avoidance or outright refusal to speak to Felix would have felt better than this. At least, then, being asshole would have felt justified.

Maybe it was for the best - this was being mature about the situation. It wasn't as if Felix wanted cameras catching sight of their dirty laundry. But, as he rolled out the crust for his spiced plum pie, Felix couldn't help glancing up at Sylvain. There was no singing into spoons or flirting with the cherries that Sylvain was putting in his Signature fruit pie. There was just the sort of careful, precise baking that Felix had come to recognize as Sylvain holding himself together during a bad week. While that might have meant that Sylvain was more affected by their fight than it seemed, Felix took no comfort in it.

Picking up his crust, Felix placed it in the pie tin and filled it with baking beans so that he could blind bake it. At least he could take comfort in the now familiar routine of the bake off. Thinking about his bakes this week had been a welcome distraction from staring at his phone in ridiculous anticipation for text messages that would never come, from replaying the conversation with Dimitri over and over again, from the desire to be someone other than who he was.

While Felix got started on chopping his plums, Catherine stopped by his table. "So, quater-finals week. How're you feeling? Still confident?" There was a warm grin on her face.

Blinking, Felix turned to Catherine. Somehow he hadn't quite realized that the competition was nearly over. At most two more weeks after this one and then, poof, Felix's life would return to normal. He would no longer stay up ungodly late because he needed to figure out the exact balance of flavors for a bake, nor would he have to learn how to string up cookies or make multi-tiered pie constructions. It would be done. The realization sank like a stone to the bottom of the ocean.

Catherine's smile faltered. Lips twisting into something complicated, she squeezed Felix's shoulder. "You'll be fine, kid."

"I don't plan on going home," Felix said, if only to stop her from attempting to comfort him further.

After a blink, Catherine laughed. "Well, good. I'd miss that cranky mouth of yours if you did." Giving his shoulder one more squeeze, she leaned in and said, "Just do your best and even if you do go home, you'll have no regrets."

It was far too late for no regrets, but Felix wasn't going to say that on camera. So he gave her a half a smile and said, "Think Shamir's calling you."

Shamir was in deep conversation with Dedue and definitely not calling for Catherine. Despite that, Catherine winked and called out, "Oh Shamir, is it the time of day where you profess your undying love to me?"

* * *

Felix placed fourth in the Technical, which in previous weeks would have made him feel secure, but this week it felt anything but. That the judges had mostly positive things to say about his Signature did not make Felix feel any better - everyone had done fairly well on that. It was clear that the Showstopper would be determining who was going home. Unless someone failed spectacularly, it would be a tight race.

But there were constants to this competition, and one was the Saturday night boardgames. Felix found himself on opposing teams with Sylvain in a game of Codenames. Felix had Dedue on his team while Sylvain had Dorothea. To keep pairs even, Mercedes opted to sit this round out and kept peaking over both Sylvain and Felix's shoulders as they gave hints to their partners.

In the moments where Dedue and Dorothea deliberated, Felix couldn't help but keep glancing up at Sylvain. It would have been more embarrassing if he hadn't noticed Sylvain doing the same thing. Occasionally their eyes would meet and they would jerk their gazes away as if the eye contact burned. By the time the game ended, Felix was sick of it.

As the cards were put away and the others debated on which game to play next, Felix's fingers twitched. He didn't want to talk to Sylvain - it would be much easier to cut his losses, deal with the awkwardness for whatever time they had left and then chalk it all up to another spectacular failure. He could even leave game night now, and part of the problem could be avoided. Yet there was Catherine's _no regrets_ doing a jig in Felix's mind.

"I think Hanabi might be fun," Mercedes suggested. Dorothea made a face, proposing Spirit Island instead. This could go on indefinitely. With a sigh, Dedue stood and excused himself to the restroom.

Felix once more glanced at Sylvain. Talking to him could be completely pointless. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Felix had been the one to fuck up and knowing Felix, he would just get angry again anyhow, because that was what Felix did. Get angry. And wouldn't it be even worse to have yet another argument?

Sylvain looked up at Felix. Their eyes met for the thousandth time that night. Opening his mouth, Sylvain seemed as if he wanted to say something, but then he closed it and turned away. Oh fuck it. Felix exhaled. "We should talk."

* * *

Sylvain's hotel room this week was not notably different from the one he had last week. Felix thought one of the armchairs might have been another color, mustard instead of olive, but that didn't particularly matter. It was a comfortable enough seat, either way. Sylvain meanwhile opted for sitting on the edge of the bed, body angled towards the window rather than towards Felix. They'd been sitting like this for the past five minutes, both too hesitant to begin.

"I'm still pissed at you," Felix finally admitted. He could think of nothing better to start with than the truth.

Sylvain laughed tired and hollow. "Yeah? That makes two of us," he said, flopping back against the mattress, arms sprawled above his head, shirt riding up. He looked like a puppet with the strings cut. "So, where does that leave us?"

"Don't know." The sleeve of Felix's sweater was starting to fray, and he fiddled with the ends of it. He'd been too afraid to think past _maybe_ before - all he had was the vague notion that they could have something that lasted beyond Fodlan's Fantastic. But he still wasn't sure that Sylvain had wanted anything like that. "Where were we before?"

Sylvain dragged one arm over his eyes."You still think you were just _fun_? No - don't answer that, I dug my own grave there. I'll be honest, I never really had someone who wasn't just fun before. Never wanted anyone who wasn't, either." There was a twisting sour note to his words.

"If you're trying to say I'm different--" Felix began, voice growing louder as he spoke.

"No," Sylvain cut him off. "Well, yes. But no. Sort of? Everyone before you wanted something from me. Lawyer, the heir to a major corporation, son of a bastard with fingers in everything from the black market to politics. Don't ask about the last one. Just. You never seemed to think of me as anything other than an annoying clown. Possibly a hot clown, but that's beside the point."

Felix wrinkled his nose. "That has to be one of the most pathetic things I've ever heard." He tried not to feel too guilty at seeing Sylvain flinch. "I'm special because I'm an ass to you," Felix said, voice flat.

"I also said you weren't a golddigger," Sylvain said with mock cheer, but, if he meant it to be a joke, Felix was not amused. Sighing, Sylvain added, "But, no, you're also sharp, smart, funny, hot, easy to be around. I could honestly go on, if you wanted me to. I really do like you, but I'm not used to..." He lifted his arm from his eyes and waved it vaguely in circles.

"Someone liking you," Felix finished, feeling the echo of his own nagging doubts. That was part of this whole affair for him too, wasn't it? Sylvain made Felix feel like someone might actually be able to care about him, despite everything he hated about himself. It wasn't really fair of either of them, but it also didn't change that Felix found Sylvain charming and comfortable.

Sylvain shoved himself up, finally turning to face Felix. His voice was way too gentle when he said, "You know, I'm far from the only one here who likes you."

Felix's face twisted into a scowl. "Until I fuck it up by blowing up." Or being sharp tongued when he should be gentle or being unsympathetic when sympathy was expected or just being unable to tolerate the missteps of others.

Something like understanding flashed across Sylvain's face. It made Felix feel far too visible. As if he hadn't already bared enough to Sylvain. But Sylvain seemed to pay no mind to that. "So... you explode and I try and run away from everything. Huh. What a pair we make."

Felix snorted. What could he even say to that? Not much. It was true as far as he could tell. He tugged at his sleeve. Was this it? Did nothing they had matter? Were they supposed to end it now because apparently both of them had trouble managing being proper humans? They'd fight again, if it didn't end, that was clear enough. And yet, Felix couldn't help but think about Sylvain's stupid jokes and warm arms. He couldn't help but still want to reach out and trace every single freckle the man had.

Inhaling, Felix stood and walked up to Sylvain. He hesitated a moment before sitting down on the bed, near enough to Sylvain that he could feel the warmth coming off of him. "What a pair," Felix echoed.

For a while, there was little more than the sound of their breathing and the dancing of shadows along the wall. But, then Felix felt the brush of Sylvain's hand against his. He allowed his fingers to entwine with Sylvain's and his head to drop against Sylvain's shoulder.

"I know we have more to talk about," began Sylvain, "but, it's pretty late. Tomorrow's pie towers aren't going to build themselves." He smoothed a thumb across Felix's knuckles. Unlike Felix's hands, Sylvain's were soft and uncalloused. "So, can we put a pin in it? I still have your t-shirt if you want it back...or want to stay."

Felix huffed fondly. "You really are shameless, aren't you?" He should have been annoyed, but he couldn't fight back the affection bubbling up in his chest. Nor could he bring himself to say no. Later, they really would have to talk more, but for tonight, Felix supposed he could be okay with simply holding Sylvain in his arms.

* * *

The Showstopper was indeed a close round - pie towers soared above everyone's heads, the smell of spices, fruit and cooked meat melded together beautifully and the judges had praise for nearly everyone. "But, unfortunately, someone does have to go home," said Shamir, before letting them know that it was Dorothea's turn this week.

The hug Sylvain gave her literally swept the poor woman off her feet - she yelped out a laugh as she was spun into the air. "I'll miss you too, you dork."

Felix was pretty sure Sylvain cried harder than Dorothea, in the end. But she demanded that no tears be shed during her good-bye party. For the most part, everyone stayed true to that, though Mercedes did sniffle a little when Dorothea started giving mildly tipsy speeches about how much she loved each and every one of them. When Dorothea got around to Felix, who was comfortably curled up with Sylvain on the couch, she ended her speech by saying, "But, just so you know, if you break this loser's heart," she gestured at Sylvain, "I will rip yours from your chest," with a vicious smile. In that moment, Felix decided that Ingrid was no longer the most terrifying person he knew.

"Hey!" Sylvain pouted. "I can protect my own heart."

Dorothea rolled her eyes. "I didn't say you couldn't. I just said you had help, in case you needed it."

Sylvain seemed about to continue protesting, so Felix cut in. "Name your arena."

"Oh, you think I'd give you warning first, do you?" Dorothea smirked. They spent the rest of the night debating if and how Dorothea could possibly murder Felix while Sylvain looked on in horror.


	7. Week 7 - Patisserie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Two hours later, the four bakers sat, arms looped together, hands twined as Hanneman, Manuela, Catherine and Shamir entered the tent. With a wide grin, Catherine said, "So, firstly, I'd like to congratulate all of you for making it so far. You've all done spectacularly."_
> 
> _Shamir nodded in agreement, and then lips curling up in what was her version of a smile, she said, "I have the fun job of announcing Star Baker this week. Of course the Star Baker will be going through to the final, and this person is..."_

Annette reached out to grab her third slice of pizza. She sat on Felix's floor, the pizza box much closer to her than to Felix, but that was fine. On his plate lay a half-finished slice of pizza that he'd forgotten about midway through Legally Blonde. The movie had been Annette's idea. "Since your boyfriend's doing a lawyer thing today, we should watch the best lawyer movie ever made."

"He's not my boyfriend," had been Felix's only real protest. He and Sylvain still hadn't quite figured out what they were, other than definitely-not-just-fuck-buddies. Neither of them was ready for anything resembling commitment, especially not Sylvain, who today was challenging his father's company in court and airing all its dirty laundry.

He'd spent the previous night panicking about it to Felix over the phone. Partially due to said panic and partially due to Felix having a relatively limited understanding of the legal system, Felix couldn't parse much of what was going on. The general gist he'd gotten was that Sylvain's father had used every dirty trick that he could manage to try and convince Sylvain's client to settle, including blackmail and murder threats. Whatever the client was suing Sylvain's father's company for could be its destruction - which was what Sylvain seemed to be hoping for. It all sounded vaguely Shakesperian, especially when compared to a young woman in a pink bunny costume.

"I don't get what she saw in that asshole in the first place," Felix said, pulling his couch blanket up over his shoulders. He tried to keep his gaze off of the phone sitting next to the pizza. Sylvain was supposed to call when it was all over, because he was coming by to relax and marathon movies with Felix and Annette.

Annette whipped her head around. "Felix! Haven't you been paying attention? That's all part of her very deep and well developed character arc."

Felix shrugged. "He was an obvious asshole from the start - and not that hot."

Annette began to pout. "Come on, you're an expert on bad self-esteem and shitty guys. Don't try to deny it. If your not-boyfriend boyfriend weren't having a time, I would definitely be evaluating him tonight."

Diplomatically, Felix decided to turn his attention back to the movie where the protagonist was now talking to an exercise guru about murder. Never mind what Felix had thought about Shakespearian level drama before, this movie was something else.

It was right around the time where the protagonist's love interest was getting a makeover that Felix's phone rang. The only reason Felix didn't immediately leap for it was because he was well trained when it came to reacting to surprises. Inhaling, he let the couch blanket drop back down into his lap and picked up the call. "Hey," Felix said.

"Hey, gorgeous." It was hard to tell if it was the phone static distorting Sylvain's voice or exhaustion. "I'm in your driveway. Sorry I didn't call earlier, I just needed a moment."

"Ah." Felix shoved the blanket off of his lap and put on his fuzzy blue slippers - a birthday gift from Ingrid. "How're you now?"

"Ehhhh," Sylvain said. "I think I'll be fine. Maybe. If you give me a kiss, it'll make it a lot better."

With a snort, Felix opened to door to his apartment. Standing in front of the now familiar car was Sylvain in a black peacoat and teal scarf. His hair was speckled with snowflakes and his eyes were red rimmed. When Felix stepped towards him, Sylvain pocketed the cell phone. "Aren't those going to get wet?" Sylvain asked, gesturing to the slippers.

"Do I look like I care?" Felix said, closing the distance between them. Sylvain nearly collapsed into Felix's arms. They held each other tight, Sylvain's face nuzzled in Felix's hair and Felix tucked into the crook of Sylvain's neck, breathing in the citrus and rose scent of him. Despite the whirling wind biting into every exposed bit of Felix and the snow seeping through his slippers, he didn't want to let go. In this moment he couldn't deny that he'd spent the entire day worried.

It was Annette who knocked some sense back into them. "Hey! Guys! I don't care how mushy you two want to be, come inside or you'll freeze."

That was when Felix remembered that frost bite was a thing that could happen to frozen, wet toes. He pulled away, grabbed Sylvain's hand and led him inside. Next to the entryway, Annette stood, arms folded. "The winter is serious business. Don't make me call Ingrid."

"Please don't," Felix said. He eventually planned to introduce Ingrid and Dimitri to Sylvain, but he wanted to wait until after the baking show. That way neither of them could nag about Felix sleeping with the competition or whatever.

As Sylvain hung his coat and scarf in the closet, he said, "Good to finally meet you Annette. Felix has actually talked about you once or twice, which must mean you're really special."

"Excuse me?" Felix blurted at the same time as Annette burst into laughter.

* * *

It was the last Showstopper before the finals and Felix buzzed with a mix of anxiety and excitement. Someone was going home, and this perhaps was the worst week of all to do so, finish line just out of reach.

This challenge was a religieuse à l'ancienne - a tower made of choux pastry tubes filled with creme patissiere, topped with ganache and joined by buttercream. The tubes would have to stand upright, bearing the weight of the stack above them without collapse. This required just the right balance of tender to tough for the pastry. Back home, it had taken Felix more than a few tries to get something that was neither rock hard nor prone to tearing after a few minutes. Bread flour had been the trick in the end. It had a higher protein content, which helped create more gluten and thus a more stable structure.

His creme patissiere was espresso and cinnamon flavored, his ganache was dark chocolate with a hint of chili and the buttercream was a simple almond flavor. It was classic with just a bit of extra spice, the perfect demonstration of Felix's baking style.

In front of Felix hummed Sylvain. He was being extra ridiculous this week - he'd serenaded Felix with Holiday music as the stand mixer stirred his orange buttercream, he'd blown kisses at every one of his choux buns, and he'd tied an apron over his head for about five minutes because they were making 'giant nuns.' Felix almost resented that he couldn't find this annoying any more. More than once, Felix found himself looking up and involuntarily smiling at the goof.

"That confidence of yours is back." Catherine clapped Felix on the shoulder with a grin. "It's good to see."

Felix blinked up from scooping creme patissiere into a piping bag. There was a genuine fondness in Catherine's voice. It still took Felix by surprise how no one here had wound up hating him. "I worked some things out," he confessed.

Her gaze flickered momentarily to Sylvain and she laughed. "Well, good." Then she swiped a finger along the rim of the mixing bowl containing the creme patissiere and stuck it in her mouth. "Mm, caffeine."

"Hey!" Felix shot her a glare.

Smug smile on her face, Catherine waved at Felix before walking off to poke Mercedes. With a huff, Felix turned back to filling his bag. When it came time to assemble, the clock was down to the minute and Felix had creme patissiere and butter cream dripping through his fingers and splotching down his apron. One hand had to hold up the tower while the other piped. There was no cracking yet, but the towers would stand for two hours before being judged. He took a glance around the room to see everyone else equally covered in cream, but the towers themselves looked stunning.

Dedue's pistachio, rose and caramel tower was constructed so that the eclairs were spiraled rather than straight standing. His ever delicate pipework made the butter cream seams look as if they were made out of flowers.

The strawberry and mint tower that Mercedes had created was striped - some of the eclairs were topped with a white chocolate ganache and others with a dark chocolate. There were tiny choux balls climbing up the tower in a spiral.

Out of all of the towers, Sylvain's bourbon, orange and white chocolate construction had the most levels - four. Rather than being intricately decorated it stood tall and sturdy, perfectly precise and neat. When he caught Felix's eyes he stage-whispered, "It's a penis."

Felix almost dropped his piping bag at that. Rolling his eyes, he said, "You're a child."

With a wink and a laugh, Sylvain turned back to adding the final touches to choux tower.

* * *

Two hours later, the four bakers sat, arms looped together, hands twined as Hanneman, Manuela, Catherine and Shamir entered the tent. With a wide grin, Catherine said, "So, firstly, I'd like to congratulate all of you for making it so far. You've all done spectacularly."

Shamir nodded in agreement, and then lips curling up in what was her version of a smile, she said, "I have the fun job of announcing Star Baker this week. Of course the Star Baker will be going through to the final, and this person is..."

She paused, making eye contact with each one of the bakers. Taking a deep breath, she did a sweep of the group, then another and then her gaze fell on Felix. "Felix! Congratulations!"

The others began to clap and Sylvain wrapped an arm around Felix, pulling him close. "Do I get to say I'm proud of you?"

"Don't get mushy on me here." Felix wouldn't be too surprised if social media eventually caught on to his and Sylvain's relationship, what with Sylvain's love of public displays of affection, but Felix would rather not have that airing on television.

Giving him a squeeze before letting go, Sylvain said, "You like it."

Felix huffed fondly.

Then Catherine began to speak, her expression somber and subdued. "And of course, I have the awful job here. This isn't easy, especially since we've all come to like you guys so much and since the person going home has been not only a fantastic baker, but a bright and sunny presence in the tent. Your humor will be missed, Sylvain. I'm sorry."

"Hey, it's fine," Sylvain said, sliding off his chair and over to Catherine who stepped forward to pull him into a hug. The rest joined not too far behind, each taking turns hugging Sylvain.

"You will have to visit me sometime," Mercedes told Sylvain, though her eyes briefly flickered to Felix as if to say _and if he doesn't do so on his own, it's your job to drag him_.

Dedue ruffled Sylvain's hair. "It was a pleasure getting to know you. Also, please share the recipe for the cake you made yesterday."

When it came to Felix's turn to pull Sylvain close, he whispered, "Can't believe you won't be here next week, you bastard."

"Hey, I'll be there for the last part. Promise," Sylvain said, briefly burying his face in Felix's hair before pulling away.

"Good, or Annette will murder you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cow, this is the end ya'll! (The epilogue will be going up in like a minute.) The actual fic was finished before I even started posting it, but finally posting it all really does feel like an accomplishment. It's been quite a journey for me and thank you for sticking with me. I suppose, I should say that if you want to find me on social media I'm @yevievt on twitter. But, be fair warned that mostly I just talk about myself there >_>
> 
> Anyway. Thank you!!!! I hope you have as much fun reading this as I did writing it!


	8. Epilogue: Week 8 - Final

After the final Showstopper Dedue, Mercedes, Felix, their friends, family and all the bakers who'd gone home over the previous weeks sat chatting in the reception hall while the judges deliberated. The Showstoppers from this week, colorful birthday cakes, stood as the centerpieces of the three finalist's tables along with a variety of meats, cheeses and pasta that the catering company had provided.

At Mercedes' table, there was Dorothea, Petra, Hilda, a fellow nurse by the name of Flayn, and Mercedes' brother, a man with an intense glare and a spikey outfit that looked like it had been entirely purchased at Hot Topic. "Felix, this is Emile," Mercedes said. "You two have a lot in common." With matching glares, Emile and Felix looked each other up and down while Annette giggled in the background.

Dedue was joined by his three siblings, his parents, grandparents, an aunt and Ashe who was excitedly chatting away with the oldest of Dedue's siblings, a woman by the name of Farah. She was almost as tall as Dedue and wore a biker's leather jacket.

At Felix's table sat Annette, Ingrid, Dimitri and of course, Sylvain. It'd been a bit awkward at first, with both Ingrid and Dimitri exchanging vaguely judging looks after Sylvain greeted them with a wink. But then Sylvain began asking Dimitri about his politics, both breaking the cardinal rule of 'topics to avoid at the dinner table' and making Dimitri's eyes light up with excitement. Felix followed along for the first part of it, but when it began to veer into the minutia of labor rights legislation, Felix tuned out and simply leaned against Sylvain, feeling content.

Applause rang out as the judges and hosts entered the room, carrying three bouquets of flowers and a giant trophy.

"Thank you for coming everyone," Catherine began. "It's been an amazing weekend and we're happy to have you all here. But, now it's time to announce our winner. Could our three finalists, Dedue, Felix and Mercedes, please step forward."

The three exchanged glances, and grabbing each other's hands as they came to the front of the room, they all pulled close.

"As amazing as you all are," Shamir took over, "There can only be one winner, and the winner is..."

The applause quieted. The voices in the room came to a hush. There was only the sound of everyone's breathing.

"Dedue!"

The applause exploded once more. And then there were hugs, flowers exchanged and compliments spoken. Perhaps in another life it might have bothered Felix that he was not the victor, but he couldn't really feel defeated losing to Dedue. Especially not when the man's normally stoic face split into the biggest smile Felix had ever seen him wear.

It was over.

This chapter of Felix's life had come close. Next weekend he could just sleep in and not think about the bakes. Next weekend he would not be spending three hours in a car listening to Sylvain blast whatever music struck his fancy. Next weekend Felix would be at home. But that was okay.

Mercedes and Ashe were already trying to organize a twice-monthly board-game night. Apparently, they only lived half an hour from Fhirdiad and Dedue was actually in the city. Dorothea lived a few hours away, but she said she was willing to drive up if Mercedes wouldn't mind her crashing for the night.

They wouldn't be gone from Felix's life. They wouldn't. Felix had to reassure himself of that - he was trying to be a little less cynical. Maybe someday, he might actually even manage to get the hang of it. Today, it certainly felt like a possibility.


End file.
